If the Rocks Can Cry Out.....

There is the tiniest bird atop a dead tree branch outside my window.  He (or she, as the case may be) is singing but one repetitive sweet sound.  I cannot type the sound it makes.  It is high-pitched yet is not screeching, or annoying in any sense of the word.  I wonder so at what its announcement is that it is worthy of such repetition. Does it speak to its neighbors?  Is it calling a meeting?  Is it a song that I do not understand?  Or is it but a sweet message to its Maker?  It is not photo worthy.  Brown bird.  Gray sky.  Dead tree.  If I could capture its sound on film I would be delighted to do so. 

The song is of little consequence to any other living being, as far as I can see.  I wonder, is this tiny creature communicating with a Big God?  I hear no answers to its call but perhaps it is a conversation I am not privy to.  Perhaps it is conversation with another that I cannot see or hear.  I do not know how sharp their hearing or how far the voices reach.  I don't even know what kind of small bird it is.  I can only detect that it is content on sharing its voice from the treetop outside my window in small, rhythmic sound. 

I wonder if it is an act of worship.  As created beings with souls, we are created for relationship with the Father, but does it mean that other living things will not worship?   Does the scripture not say that even the rocks will cry out?  So why not this tiny winged creature, who is so passionate this morning about its calling?  

To know one's self so intently that calling out on a gloomy morning from a treetop less than beautiful would be to complete a daily task.  The confidence to do just exactly that.  No mood or present circumstances interfere with the voice.  This is what I desire.   To cry out, peacefully, contently, in words, in pictures, in song, knowing I am fulfilling my "me" for the day.   Yes if even the rocks can cry out...