The Bluebird’s Song

I wrote this poem last year as I regretfully considered all the little things in life that I have missed. If you’re like me, you have a tendency to pursue the “significant” while ignoring the “trivial”. (In other words, if it does not bring tangible results or help me reach my goals, it is a waste of precious time.) I am finding that life is much more satisfying when I stop to enjoy the simple, daily pleasures all around me instead of chasing what could be. I hope this poem challenges and encourages you.

“The Bluebird’s Song”

Years ago in early spring,

I heard a bird begin to sing,

My daughter pointed out to me,

A bluebird in the little tree,

But the pace of life was fast,

I knew the moment couldn’t last,

So quickly I went on my way,

And promised to return one day,

And the bluebird sings his little song,

As I grow old and life goes on,

But one day I will stop again,

To hear the song I heard back then.

My daughter standing by the tree,

Says, “Daddy, will you stand with me?”

But the pull of life’s demands,

Also clamors for these hands,

The urgent tasks that cannot wait,

Promise not to keep me late,

So, empty-handed by the tree,

She listens to the bluebird sing,

And the bluebird sings his little song,

As I grow old and life goes on,

But one day I will stop again,

To hear the song I heard back then.

Time has moved so quickly by,

That little tree now stands so high,

And the bluebird’s song still beckons me,

To stand a moment by the tree,

To listen to the song he sings,

And feel the happiness he brings,

“But I still have so much to do,

I promise I’ll get back to you.”

And the bluebird sings his little song,

As I grow old and life goes on,

But one day I will stop again,

To hear the song I heard back then.

Now that I am old and grey,

I find the bluebird’s flown away,

And echoes from the silent tree,

Songs of long lost memories,

Regret’s petitions call in vain,

To turn the clock and ease the pain,

“Bluebird please come back to me,

So I can hear the song you sing,”

But the bluebird sang his little song,

While I grew old and life went on,

And never will I hear again,

The little song I heard back then.

So take my humble offering,

And listen to the bluebird sing,

The pace of life will never slow,

Nor will the tree await to grow,

And all the tasks that couldn’t wait,

Will mock the memories erased,

And haunt you with the choices wrong,

That pulled you from the bluebird’s song.

And the bluebird sings his little song,

As you grow old and life goes on,

And never will you hear again,

The little song you heard back then.

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