When I was growing up
we had a canary called Dominic.
Dominic lived in his cage
and we used to hear wee birdy noises
coming from Dominic’s corner
of the living room:
cheeps and chirps;
scraping sounds
as Dominic sharpened his beak;
rhythmic squeaks
as Dominic swung
on his mirrored perch.
But for the most part,
Dominic was relatively quiet.

Occasionally,
as the family’s eyes were all glued to the TV
we would hear behind us
Dominic bursting into song,
singing his wee heart out.
Distracted by the TV programme,
we rarely turned round
but Dominic’s song of merriment
used to bring a smile
to all of our faces.

I am sometimes reminded
of Dominic’s song-bursts of merriment
when Fr David says Sunday morning Mass
at Hannahstown.
When the folk group starts
to sing the psalm
I find that I have to concentrate
on the music
but often, I hear a song-burst
from away down on the altar
and I know that it’s Fr David
singing the response of the psalm.
I sense that the folk group and Fr David
have united in song
and in prayer
and I’m aware
that we are all singing our hearts out
in praise of Our God.
And just like all of those years ago,
when Dominic used to burst into song,
the singing brings a smile to my face.

© Claire Murray, 23 February 2014