Singing all through.

 Singing all  through.

For  him the winter  is slow,

The songbird  feels could be

April  with its  coil of spring

 mellifluous  rising hopes

in all . Certainly for him /her

November is the same as Dec Morn;

Me  as  a spectator in the corner

Stand and witness all  birds

Start singing if they are prompted

By a tune special and in surrounding

 calm and cool; Advent of Jan,

throb of  April chill November

throughout, the same singing

profuse and not a premeditated art;                                                                                  

seasons change, love and hate

in mutations and buff and blow,

you grow long in singing loud,

most of times, a silent singing

into yourself goes on within,

along with the birds and flora and fauna

in a nod or beckoning , aura of   own.