Let me hear in the morning
of your steadfast love.
“There’s more to come,
more to come,”
sang the three parakeets
as they dashed by my roof
early this morning; messengers
carrying urgent notice
to a world in need of hope.
I only just caught the words
in their breathless hurry;
and now there’s more,
in threes and fives,
emissaries of abundance.
They sing of life-upon-life
and of death’s great defeat.
For those acquainted
with the language and song
they unmistakably sing
of resurrection.