was a certain bird, and the bird had a nearly inaudible chirp, and God saw it was
good. But the bird pleaded for recognition, identity, a sound other birds
would recognize and respect. All songs had been given out, none left, but
God took pity on this one last, tiny thing, and made its wings beat so fast
they hummed.
From: https://www.abandonedmine.org/in-the-beginning-norbert-hirschhorn
Date: 2022
By: Norbert Hirschhorn (1938- )
From Troubles of The World 