I’ve been in Littleport three years now, and the rooks in the trees a couple of streets away have been my constant companions through the day and through the seasons. What a season this last one has been (and very much continuing as I write). We have all had our own thoughts during lockdown, and not a few challenges. One morning in March, as soon as I woke up, a few words and phrases came to me that I turned into a sonnet. Here it is.
You stake your lofty claim in giant trees –
A colony of heaven made of sticks!
But what if comes more than a gentle breeze?
Is this location really safe for chicks?
Your social distance is my inspiration
While soaring far above this Covid virus;
Your parliament will always be in session –
Your wheeling dealing cawing Covid chorus.
I want to fly away! Lord, give me wings!
But you say Stay, remain aloft, Be Still.
So then, dear Lord, give me the heart that sings;
Help me to do your good and perfect will.
My child, Look at the birds, observe their style;
Your heavenly Father feeds them all the while.