Jesus said: ‘Before the cock crows twice’
To Peter, ‘You will deny me thrice’
Are you one of those a-crowin’?
Or just get on in the fields a-winnowin’?

Some show a side of humility
But can’t help a boast, surreptitiously!
Like the cock inured to reason
Crows at five no matter the season.

It seems the first glimmer of breaking dawn
Wakes him with a feathered yawn
And can’t help but start the contest
No matter how much we detest.

His call, expected here in the country
Is echoed by his adversaries down the valley.
We put the coffee on and are treated to cacophony
Of feathered friends in doubtful harmony!

We were given a rare treat when Lola was alive
She loved the large eggs and the peahens would arrive.
The calls took me back to the Indian forests
When I fell in love with its land, people and fests!

We share with nature all we can of the little we can grow
But the constant cheep of the common sparrow
As grapes and figs they pinch could fill a barrow
We do not mind with plenty for all, just joy, no sorrow.

The continuous song of love
From the cooing of the ring dove
Is not to everybody’s taste
Shooing them away in haste!

While others reminded of another time and place
Recalling sight and sound, their beauty and their grace
The Grace which calls us to be aware of everything and everyone,
Awareness beginning within when we are silent and alone.
How could we deplete and plunder this planetary place
Its minerals, animals, even ourselves by colour of our face?
Where’s the sense when all is gone and pockets are empty
Nothing to crow about? Make it something again to call beauty!

Look around: How could all this be left to chance?
This Grand Divine Design our lives truly to enhance
Crow that! Sing it! Shout it from the towers
Save our Planet as our friends coo in their bowers.

© David Tenneson 2015.


About David

Devonian writer
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