Sounding Out

Way down deep in Ozark land, in hills so rich and green,
There lives a treetop hollow-dweller, that is rarely seen.
You can hear him daily, with his rat-a-tat-a-tat,
And there is just no question, where old “redhead’s” really at!

Our friend is found among the trees, that grow so near the lake.
You may not see his plumage, but his sound no one can fake.
For daily, yea each moment, he bangs upon the trunks,
A symphonic percussion, that awakens bears and skunks.

Perhaps we should ourselves take note, and imitate our friend.
Maybe we can live each day, as faithful to the end.
And “sound out” truth about the Christ, and God’s great plan for all.
For some may hear our words of life, and answer Father’s call.

We may not all be red-topped birds, or hang out in the trees.
And none of us have wings to fly, and go wheree’er we please.
But “Christ in us” is beautiful, and someday we will fly,
When our Lord comes and gathers us, to him up in the sky!