Meditation on “A Minor Bird” by Robert Frost

These hot September afternoons I’m looking for the shade of the tree, a place to relax and contemplate the change of the seasons.

Today, I’ll read once again this poem by Robert Frost, and think about it. Will you join me?

“I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;

Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.

The fault must partly have been in me.
The bird was not to blame for his key.

And of course there must be something wrong
In wanting to silence any song.”

I have to confess I have wanted to silence birds occasionally. It’s usually a mockingbird, one of those black and white birds who can sing anything, mimic anything. These birds sing on and on, from their perches high in trees or low on fences. Their tails flick up and down as they sing.

Such an earnest song. Loud, unconcerned as to whether their listeners love their song or not.

I’m learning from a mockingbird, actually. When you have a talent, share it. It doesn’t really matter if anyone else thinks you’re great – or even enjoys hearing what you have to say. What matters is that you were born to say it, or do it.

So, like the mockingbird, get out there and SING.

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