A flash of scarlet crowns the frosted morn,
Through icy boughs, a regal hue takes flight,
No painter’s hand could match this form adorned,
A living flame to pierce the winter’s night.
In feathered splendor, bold against the snow,
He sings a tune no silence can restrain,
Each note ascends where heaven’s breezes blow,
A hymn of grace in nature’s vast domain.
What mind conceived this crimson artistry,
But Christ, whose word the universe arrayed?
From dust to wing, His love’s sweet mastery,
In every plume, His glory is displayed.
So stands the cardinal, proud and unafraid,
A testament to beauty God has made.