You hide in everything, delighting in your play— you disappear in anything each time I head your way. The siskins' outstretched wings reveal a golden ray lain hidden as they perch and sing, until they fly away. You dance away from me whenever I draw near. I look and look but never see; I hush but never hear. The wrens may seem to flee— they fly but do not fear, and sing unseen in every tree and ring upon my ear. O God in every place and with me, touch my eyes to see the wonders of your grace in their mundane disguise: as fluttering through space, or stillness split by cries, a feather's brush against a face, and every bird that flies.
By photochem_PA from State College, PA, USA – Bird in a tree, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=75359530
Kate Bluett 