Dark and cold we may be, but this
Is no winter now: the frozen misery
Of centuries breaks, cracks, begins to move:
The thunder is the thundering of the floes,
The thaw, the flood, the upstart spring.
Thank God our time is now when wrong
Comes up to face us everywhere,
Never to leave us til we take
The longest stride of soul we ever took.
Affairs are now soul-size.
The enterprise
Is exploration into God.
For some birds, songs are learned by listening to their parents and neighbors during the first year. For other birds, songs are hardwired -- the music is scored in their brains from the beginning. For mockingbirds, singing is a lifetime of choir practice and talent shows, picking up new tunes and modifying old ones.