Wind blows the thrush’s tree

Wishing everyone a happy new year, hoping you will find your happiness and contentment in the small things we all extol, like the beauty of sunsets, wild flowers and birdsong.
Thanks

The Planet

Wind blows the thrush’s tree

The wind has blown, will blow, is blowing still,
the shrivelled leaves of last year’s tired trees,
all through the restless night of rocking stars,
bright lightships shining in the heaving dark.
And now the clouds are piling deep and grey,
the only sound the wind’s persistent voice,
cold daylight dim, not bright enough to call
this day a start, not new nor even green,
nor half the frosty way to leafy spring.
Yet sing, thrush, stormcock, in the poplar tree,
sing loud as only feathered hearts know how,
defiant, jubilant to pierce the dark.
You dominate your windy world, perched high,
you see far clearer than my human eye.