I listened Sunday morning <br />To all the singing birds; <br />I saw no choir director <br />And heard no human words. <br /> <br />Each song seemed to initiate <br />The next song through the air. <br />Some times the birds just sang alone; <br />Sometimes I heard a pair. <br /> <br />But seldom did their voices stop. <br />One always seemed to fill <br />The ending of another’s song <br />With its melodious trill. <br /> <br />I thought back to before the dawn <br />When all the birds had slept <br />As night’s sounds settled for the day, <br />And all their silence kept. <br /> <br />One little bird had ventured forth <br />When none but she would sing. <br />Not in response but on her own, <br />She let her music ring. <br /> <br />Lord, help me be the one who dares, <br />When no one else will sing, <br />To watch your wand and see you point <br />And let my music ring. <br /> <br />My feeble voice may not be strong <br />As others that are there, <br />But maybe mine will start the song <br />As it sweeps through the air. <br /> <br />Then other voices will respond— <br />Some sweeter—some more strong— <br />Some solos and some grand duets <br />Will join God’s chorus song. <br /> <br />The music made—so glorious <br />Can melt the hardest heart, <br />And God can bless each one of us <br />Who simply did his part.<br /><br />Mac Wilkey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-ll-be-the-first-to-sing/
