Flitting Time   Leave a comment

1128px-Acrocephalus_arundinaceus_nest

Above:  A Bird’s Nest

Image Source = Wikinoby

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Acrocephalus_arundinaceus_nest.jpg)

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Long ago, one summer evening,

With the children ’round my knee,

I watched a mother bird attending

To her brood assiduously.

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To and fro, from nest to meadow,

And from meadow back to nest

Flew she, until twilight warned her

It was time to go to rest.

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And I wondered if that mother

Bird would grieve when, some bright day,

Her children should spread wide their wings,

Leave the nest, and fly away.

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Now I think I know the answer,

For my nestlings soon will fly

From the nest.  E’en now they’re opening

Strong young winds exultantly,

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While I’m watching them and helping

To make ready as I can;–

My own dreary heartache hidden

Underneath their merry plan.

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They must flit just as the birds do;

‘Tis God’s plan and it is right,

But my nest will be as lonely

With the fall of each twilight.

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There will be no youthful voices

Bidding “pleasant dreams,–goodnight,”

And no tender forms to cover

From the night wind’s chilling blight.

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Still, for me remains this comfort–

Each of them is Jesus’ own;

Each one owns Him Lord and Master,

In each heart He has a throne.

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And at last, beyond the river,

Where no partings ever come;

There I shall, with not one missing,

Once more have them all at home.

NELLIE SEGUIN FOX BARRETT

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