Of the many creatures God has made,
And we know He's made them all,
I think He has a leaning,
Towards the birds that are so small.
They are, of course, most vulnerable,
Their lives affected by their size,
He feels most protective of them,
And His heart, they symbolize.
For who can look high in the sky,
And see a pair of doves,
And not instantly, instinctively,
Think of peace and God and love.
No matter how small they seem to be,
And they are delicate, little things,
Their frailty is well shielded,
By God's thoughtful gift of wings.
Look at the baby humming bird,
A real miracle of God's,
How fast the flutter of its wings,
A clever engineering job.
Birds are honored in the Bible,
They are mentioned frequently,
They are treated with respect,
Kindly, gently, lovingly.
The royal beauty of the peacock,
The mighty eagle's power to soar,
The stork, nesting in the fir trees,
And the sparrow, so adored.
Did God pattern birds from angels,
Or were angels formed like birds?
Which came first in the universe?
What matter? They are both superb.
When I observe the singing birds,
As they build their nests each Spring,
I feel that I am privileged,
That I see angels on the wing.
And if they are so directed,
To my modest home to nest,
Then those are angels flying in,
And I have been richly blest.
They reassure me of God's presence,
And I watch them with great awe,
To know God's eye is on them,
Is to know He sees us all.