Five

 Five a.m. 

It’s five a.m. on May twelfth 

A half an hour before dawn

The birds are busily singing 

This is their time on their own. 

The early sky is brightening 

It’s the black and white time of day

When the colors are washed and

The world sleeps soundly away. 

Folks cherish dreams while turning

In tossed sheets on different beds

That vary by only a foot or two 

Despite different fortunes of men. . 

But back to the birds who have

Laid claim to this year of plague 

Theirs the voice of courage

When others have lost their way. 

Different voices from different choirs 

Call out a matins hymn

Ahead of the monks in the abbeys

The teachers and children at school.   

The bird songs honoring God 

Despite the terror of Covid

Rallying folk to believe 

The Promised Land we’ll achieve. . 

The light in the East’s growing stronger

The birds are now heading home

Their job’s done this Wednesday morning    

The kettle starts to boil in the kitchen 

The coffee tastes good at this hour

And so I will toast a new morning 

Grateful for another dawn breaking 

For the gentle folk of Dun Leary