Birdcall
The birds are calling me
And I call them back.
I know why they're calling me,
They're hungry, I can see.
Food are scarce and hard to find.
In this kind of weather and year's time.
I scatter the seeds on the ground
And pour some in the feeder hanging on a tree branch.
I call them by mimicking whistling bird sound.
They come down and fly abound.
They come in flocks and flock around
Like their mother, I feed their empty tiny pouches.
Oh, how wonderful to be with God's creatures.
They call me by chirping from trees.
They land over my opened palms with seeds I lured .
And away they flew, and up the sky they soared.
Hope they'll come back soon and make my days
I know they'll call me one of these days.
