(A bird’s-eye view of humanity)
We intellectual birds-of-prey
From dusk to dawn are active,
Eschewing that harsh light of day –
The moon-light’s more attractive.
I’m field reporter Alfred Owl
Sent by “The Evening Hoot”.
For News (by means both fair or fowl)
This is my life’s pursuit.
My boss commands me to report
On other species’ habits:
The subterranean moles’ resort,
The networked homes of rabbits,
The mounds built by th’ industrious ants,
The birds that thrive in trees,
And anything that helps enhance
And build communitees.
Most creatures, winged or bare or furred,
Have learned to dwell together
In flocks or tribes or schools or herd
With others “of their feather.”
The geese they fly in fine formation
So far – seldom weary,
And with their inbuilt navigation,
Never call for SIRI.
The skylarks, swifts and starlings dance
The skies in fine array.
Their grace and artistry enhance
Their disciplined display.
Most earth-bound beasts (beneath us birds)
At least they get along.
Unlike those nerds who shun the herds,
Together they are strong.
The cows, the wolves, the sheep, the goats
Look out for one another.
They share their grass or meat or oats
Or prey with little brother.
Despite their size, let’s not despise
The herds of ele-phants.
Their matrons oft their young advise
And help pull up their pants.
But humans are a curious lot.
They think they’re queens and kings!
I really think they’ve lost the plot.
They do the weirdest things!
Their feathers they have largely shed.
Us owls think it’s a Hoot!
They’ve left a little on their head
Which does look kind of cute.
To compensate, they build machines –
Such clumsy-looking things!
Like huge, fat eagles in their teens,
That can’t yet flap their wings.
They pile their nests up to the clouds.
Their chirping’s never quiet.
And when they gather in their crowds
It soon becomes a riot.
Yes, when these creatures congregate
They can’t refrain from squabbling.
They bite, they scratch, abuse, berate
Worse than a turkey’s gobbling.
They’re such a wild, contentious race.
They give and take much flack.
They’ll smile into their neighbour’s face,
Then stab them in the back.
They hold what they call “parliament”,
Their problems so to fix,
Then blame and squark, their anger vent
And call it “Politics.”
The “Left-Wing” folk despise the “Right”,
The “Right” hate in return.
They flap these “Wings” with all their might,
But fly? They’ll never learn!
All your Fake News does not amuse.
Come, heed your feathered friends!
Don’t twist the facts, your power abuse,
O Homo sapi-ens!
The folly of this human-kind
Rejecting God above!
And blindly they mislead the blind
All in the name of “Love”!
It seems to me that ever since
Into the world men entered,
Their souls were stained the blackest tints
Which makes them quite self-centred.
Yet once I flew into a nest
Where humans congregated,
Where none were treated like a pest,
No pride, no racial hatred.
They walked the talk and did not balk
At showing real compassion.
In nasty talk they put a cork,
Which ain't the current fashion!
They healed the sick and fed the poor,
And gave the hopeless strength.
The homeless saw a welcoming door
And found a home at length.
Where joy and thanks and mercy throve,
Integrity stood tall!
Connecting to their Maker’s love
His life flowed to them all.
As helpless humans strive in vain
So God, He took on flesh.
He lived and died and rose again.
Man can be born a-fresh.
And so, good reader, as I write
This article’s conclusion,
I hope this literary flight
Won’t cause too much confusion.
I’m ending on a note of hope
That man, he will take stock,
And grasp at God’s extended rope
And join His blessed flock.