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The Jabiru

Edward S. Sorenson

I’ve wondered as I’ve watched you stride
On stilted legs o’er marshlands wide
    At Nature’s trick that placed on you
For evermore, with all your pride,
    The ban of silence, Jabiru.

While other birds their feelings voice,
And loudly with their kind rejoice,
    In solemn mood, with bayonet beak,
You mooch around for morsels choice,
    Or soar on high, but never speak.

Around you hear bird-songs that charm,
With cries anon of quick alarm,
    Or joyous chirps o’er grub and crumb;
And all day long by reed and palm
    You stand or rove—for ever dumb.

Whilst eagles whistle from the air,
And over some reptilian lair
    The kookaburra laughs with glee,
You and your mate, a Quaker pair,
    Stalk hither and thither noiselessly.

A low tree holds your big stick nest,
Wherein your twin chicks mutely rest,
    The quietest babes in birds’ domain;
With stoic patience they are blest
    And never in their lives complain.

I’ve wondered as I’ve watched you wade
The swamp nestled along the glade,
    ‘Tis outrage for these callow two,
At Nature’s whim that on you laid
    The ban of silence, Jabiru.

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