The Butcher Birds are calling for you my love,
"Where are you Cathie? Where are you now?", they call.
"The days are lengthening and we cannot find you near."
"Where are your morsels for our little ones?
The nests are full and you are needed here."
I do not have the heart to tell them what is wrong.
Is it not enough that I should grieve alone?
Too sad already are the echos of their song;
their little hearts would surely break
if they should know the truth, that you are gone.
To all the Butcher Birds that you have known
I will simply say that you are not far away,
"Do not mourn for Cathie, she is here,
although her mortal body now has flown,
her gentle spirit and love are always near."