March 22, 2011
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Hear the song of the blackbird
Beauty sung without a word
The gift of freedom and flight
With wings as black as night
It soars through the sky
What a gift – to fly
It sings a melody
A song of beauty
Its nest so high
Where it will live and die
A gift of knowledge and sight
To live and sing – its birthright
When the sun comes up it’s time to hide.
Tomorrow night is time for another ride

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