Poetry

Small Bird

by John Puckett 
05/09/23
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I saw a small bird in the smoke bush
Eating some insects for lunch.
Not a trace of anxiety, worry, or care,
Just taking its time for a munch.

Knowing nothing of God or Creation
Knowing nothing of promise divine
This contented bird feeds
And gets all it needs in good time.

So why am I anxious and worried?
Why do I so easily fret?
When I know all about God’s resources,
His promises claim to expect?

Praise God for his patience with people
Praise God for his patience with me
My faith and my trust seem so shaky,
Governed too much by uncertainty.

Thank you, thank you, small bird in the smoke bush,
Your example you set just by living
Not an hour, not a minute of worry,
Enjoying each moment receiving.

“Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor
reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds
them. Are you not of more value than they?”
Matthew 6:26

(A smoke bush is cotinus coggygria, a large bush or small tree with purple leaves and fluffy flower shoots)