There was a lonely little bird resting on my windowsill,
his head was hanging low and his body was quite still.
A tear was falling from his eye, and then he looked at me;
he took a breath and sang a song, and I just let him be...
"It was the birthing of the sun and God's creation was still young.
The stars were all rejoicing while the moon in heaven hung.
Amongst the stars the Lord was dancing, joined by angel song,
and on the earth the man and maid looked up and sang along.
There were birds and beasts and flowers and trees;
there were deserts and jungles and fish in the seas.
Not a drop of rain, hail or snow fell to the ground,
but clear fresh rivers over earth did abound.
All was perfect and fresh; 'twas innocent and new,
from the mountains and valleys the most wonderful view.
Exquisitely peaceful, bird song kissing the air;
the wolf and her cubs fast asleep in her lair.
Coiled up in the garden he watched and he waited -
his fiery eyes filled with such loathing and hatred.
It was the serpent, the father of lies; evil of evils personified.
Then the man and the woman believed him and died.
Hard labor, sweat, tears and blood; 'twas their portion now.
No more joy and angel song, but even then somehow,
whene'r they looked upon the stars, deep down within they knew -
it could be better yet again; it could be found anew.
The Lamb was slain at high noon and the standoff had begun.
They were set free from sin and death – with love, not with a gun.
His Blood then filled the whole earth, enabling God to see
His children through the Blood of Jesus Christ from Galilee."
The little bird on my windowsill stopped singing now and wept,
and afterwards I asked of him if any secrets still he kept.
"Yes," said he, "I do do know more, and I will share with you;
the prophecies for now and then, for the gentile and the Jew.
The sun is setting now," said he, "upon all that God had made.
Creation's day is fading - to rest its being laid.
A pregnant hush is falling as we hear the final call:
"Come all who belong to Me; come now into my Will"
Then darkness will move in with the black night on its wing,
the Light returning to His Source while no one will dare sing.
A thousand years will the serpent rule over those who first did shun
salvation dearly paid for with the Blood of God's own Son.
But then with trumpets sounding the night will turn to day.
A New creation will begin, gloriously fresh and gay.
Everything will be made new again, for all eternity.
You'll have glorified new bodies; not ones of mud and clay.
In heaven you will then share in the Light of Lights -
the Lion of the tribe of Judah, glorious in His might.
Your voices once more joining the angels as they sing:
"Glory to the Father, the Spirit, Son and King.""
The day was turning into dusk, when finally he left -
that little bird which on my windowsill sat and sang and wept.
I turned around and right then and there in the quiet of my room,
I knelt down and prayed to Him, our Messiah, Christ, and Groom!