It is my other home
And I will soon be there
Beneath the starry dome
In the clear atmosphere.
I will wander around
In sunny street and field
By that historic mound
Where flowers’ fragrances yield.
Where birds sing without fail
Petitioning the sun
To bring its rosy veil
So that day is begun.
For if they do not sing,
They fear the world will end,
That death itself will spring
And darkness will descend.
I also have to sing
To this my other home
And let my praises ring
Across all land I roam
Elia Michael
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/where-birds-sing/
