Sounds Filtered

A few minutes of silence every morning
for the valiance of the birds chirping loud and clear
above these bricks and busy streets.

Bless this shade of green

though black are the feathers of the one crower
coming down from the hidden heights.

Still this mind is not quite silent;
how else has this piece come to be?
And in plugged the man-made melody
as I stepped onto the crowded bus.