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Screaming Dove in the peaceful silence
It was just a bit before the second hour from dawn,
that I heard that Dove screaming!!
It flew past swiftly, I was not dreaming,
but why did the Dove so cry?
So immaculately dressed that Dove, right down to its reddish boots so fly.
Pain, I felt its pain just before it began to rain.
The rain clouds sailed in from the Atlantic sea and,
then the wind dropped anchor in the atmosphere.
Filling the air were Roosters, Sparrows,
Red-necked pigeons, Yellow breast Robbins and fowl with their voices,
each after their own tribal styles and free choices,
but where, where were the Black birds!
I sensed that that Dove was communicating with me still.
Why! Whatever could it be saying to me in the early morning stillness.
His burden must be heavy like a government levy.
Out there in the wild he would have to be spry and stay alive.
Even after it was gone on swiftly flying wings,
the vibes of its scream in my skull did cling.
All the birds were singing now all around in an open surround sound.
Then the sunlight was shadowed by the rain clouds drifting on their tether.
It was then the underbrush Cricket orchestra started to play just a few notes musical.
I suspected it was a brief tune up, the light having dropped and all.
The birds covered, singing specially spontaneous bright.
Then the voice of the rain lightly singing and briefly playing pan on some roofs and in gutterings.
Washing clean the green Pomegranates and the Crotons blazing fires in the Sun.
The wild vines covering the ground in a profusion of exploding white flowers,
like inches of snow fall, on the ground up north, shining under the Sunís power.
As softly, softly, softly a light rain showered, paused, then showered.
A bit before the third hour from dawn, I paused near the River Tamarinds,
with their natural foliage awning. The Sun now one third yawning.
There I heard doves cooing, the melody was in family song.
Was it here that that screaming Dove belonged?
Perhaps he would return joining in the family song.
Maybe all the birds singing was the way harmony they were syncing,
and just before dusk, as the Sun softened its touch, in the evening light,
I heard that Dove, he had returned home in peace with love.
The family song filling their alcove, the boughs rocking them to sleep above.
The River Tamarinds leaning close in a homely sheltering grove.
The wild vines with their white and yellow flowers trailing down.
The bees and birds already in bed each in their night gowns.
We were all satisfied with our bread and our beds to rest our heads.
Thankful, thankful, thankful to the Creator for this His earthly hearth.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, He would light the dawn giving us a new day on Earth.
Each day a new start for us to overcome as new birth.