The Cuckoo sings a melody
Stolen from the gods
Amid the falling oak leaves
On a blanket made of moss.
"Ho there little Cuckoo bird,
Where did you learn my tune?"
Asks a voice from high above
Just behind the waxing moon.
"I learned it from my mother!"
The Cuckoo hautily replied,
"She taught me from her death bed
on the day before she died."
"You're lying little cuckoo bird,
tell the truth now, it's your choice."
"NO!" yelled the arrogent Cuckoo bird
and he promptly lost his voice.
"You had your chance to save yourself
to repent and recieve forgiveness
but through your arrogance
you've lost your voice
You've gotten yourself into quite a mess."
"You stole that song from my daughter
and she begs me to show you mercy
and so for her, Here take your voice
but never turn it toward me."
"Dearest Evening Star please don't turn away
I present myself here to you kneeling
I didn't know it was your daughter's song
The woods played a trick on my hearing."
"The river nymph's song was not my goal
when I hid on the banks and heard singing
Twas the song of the otter folk I wanted for mine
Not the angelic song of a godling."
"Arise little Cuckoo, my anger is gone
but this is a lesson you needed to learn
Don't steal from a godling, nay don't steal at all
You'll have your own song in your turn." |
Submission Name: The song of the Cuckoo
