The Sound

The SOUND was clear and pretty and insistent as it was melodious.

I searched the trees for the source.

I was able to discern the general location and then I heard the SOUND again, coming from the same area.

I looked carefully and thoroughly all the while the SOUND repeating over and over and over again.

I grew impatient at not being able to find the bird responsible for blessing me.

I still had the gift of this beautiful SOUND; this beautiful song.

And, now, I am ok with that.

I don’t know the singer.

But sometimes it’s the song,

not the singer.