Caught up in thought
Amidst these spring flowers.
How many hours
Have I spent
Denying that our time is lent.

Then, birdsong
Breaks through my useless thought.
And I recognise
That human eyes
Do not see for long.
And that I ought
To fill my mind
With birdsong.

Yet, I find
That my brain
Oft runs like an express train
And will not be still.

But, sometimes, its just the sky
And I
And the poignancy of birdsong,
That will not last long.