The Robin’s Sermon Poem by C Richard Miles

Some time has passed, since that grey day, December last,
Since I went out, content to stray and lark about,
Just for a laugh and nothing more, along the towpath
By the canal, up to the war memorial.
I made my way from Dennis Bridge that Boxing Day,
Up the steep slope along the ridge to Hamblethorpe.
I slowed my steps and paused for thought and caught my breath.
A twisted tree, a hoary hawthorn, stood by me
And, there, I saw a patch, instead of ripened haws;
I spotted him, a flash of red, upon a limb:
A robin, perched with wings outstretched, as if in church
The priest. “Maybe, ” I idly guessed, “it is for me
That he is here, upon this bough, so very near.”
But then I thought again, for how could he have caught
My rapt attention? Surely not, by his intent,
For he was just upon that spot by chance and must
Never have known that I would stray that way alone
When he was there. Yet, on that day, the evening air
Still breathed the afterglow of Christmas by that path
And something still remained of mystery and thrill
That made me sense the redbreast chose to happen hence
As, on that branch, he took his pose not just by chance:
It seemed that he addressed me from that wizened tree
And told me of the gift that comes from God above,
Who chose this time, born on the earth in Palestine,
A tiny child of virgin birth so meek and mild.
The robin’s red breast, red as blood which Christ would shed
Upon the cross for mankind’s good at countless cost
Reminded me, that afternoon, of what would be
At Calvary, before the tomb, pierced on the tree,
Before the glory of the resurrection morn
Ends all man’s strife and, in success, gives us new life.
I thanked the robin for his sermon and he bobbed
His feathered head as to affirm what he had said
But, before long, the bird took flight and then was gone
So I continued up the height to the old inn
Where celebrations of the season still took place
But none as meaningful as pleased me in that scene
Where that small bird had blessed me twice, without a word
By giving me a glimpse of Christ’s nativity
And of the love of God himself. That was enough
To gild the day with untold wealth out of the grey.