"But who will find him if he's lost? Who will find the little boy?
Goodness will find the little boy. It always has. It will again."
Black Bird pattered alongside Papa
Black Bird carried the light
Black Bird knew not what was near
Unaware of Papa's plight
'The little boy,' Black Bird cried
'Who will find the boy?'
Franticly searching for answers and refuge
While Papa held his coy
When dawn broke on Papa's last
Crippled Black Bird, meek with grief
At last Papa fed his peeping
With answers of hopeful cast
'Goodness will find him' Papa breathed
'As it has before'
Black Bird wept, because he knew
That Papa was no more
Papa died with genial faith
For he was plenty wise
The reflections that followed and remained behind
Were oaths before his eyes
And baby Black Bird, weak and daunt,
Was inconsolable with meager hope
He finally found his wings and
Unshackled, learned to cope.