My Song

No, I am not a moon seen just by night
That disappears from view throughout the day,
A mere reflection of another's light
Contented with whatever comes my way.

For I'm a bird that's rarely heard or viewed
Within the vacant forest that I sing,
A warbled melody in solitude
That one day will be given to a King.

At first, there will be great anticipation
Until my vibrant melody is heard,
Then marvel how this joyous celebration
Springs forth from such a lowly little bird.

The King will listen to my song and smile,
Confirming that the practice was worthwhile.