by Thadeus Emmanuel
Where has the morning mockingbird gone with its songs—
Those exciting rhythm and blues of melodious symphonies?
For I hear no more of their mellowing whispers;
that comes through my open window panes at every dawn,
When the cooling gentle breeze of the morning blows.
Or was it all a lonely wandering music maker;
That has lost its home to the glooms of the day,
And now left with the cold; that shows no mercy
Even at its fluffing feathers to catch the warm?
Or was it all a lonely lost mockingbird
Making vocal concerts on the balcony of anxiety,
And now waiting for a loved one to lead its way home?
Perhaps, if for these reasons the mockingbird sings no more
Tell it my restless mornings have missed its sounds;
Those exciting rhythm and blues of melodious symphonies.