The Red Winged Blackbird
It’s said that once, long, long ago,
When Christ had come to die,
The Blackbird saw Him on the cross
And wouldn’t pass Him by.
He landed there, beside Our Lord
To see what he could do
To free the deadly crown of thorns
That pierced Our Savior through.
He worked to pull the largest thorn
And ease the stinging pain,
Ignoring angry skies and winds
The ever lashing rain.
And when, at last, the thorn broke loose
With strength that true love brings,
The Precious Blood of Heaven’s King
Splashed on his outstretched wings.
The Blackbird’s deed was blessed by God
And to this day he’s seen,
Bearing the red of his Master’s Blood
Across the fields of green!
Kate Watkins Furman