My Cheerful Mockingbird

My Cheerful Mockingbird

My cheerful mockingbird,
Bathing the patio,
With her magical chants,

Sweeter than honey,
Fragile as dew,
wiser than dust,
And older than sorrow,

Do not mock me, yet,
I have but trinkets,
Of poison and despair,
Mocking your songs,

How many patios and windows,
Have you adorned?
For you cheer ceaseless,
Were all these tidings without pain?

My cheerful mockingbird,
Don’t cease, yet,
I have many wounds to heal,
Before you fly away.