Bird Song

The birds song singing years of our symphony the history of us a view more daunting than our minds can accept High in the mountains they are there watching though secluded its song sings of what the world has become Since hatched from an egg a mother telling them stories of the dangers of the world We envy them for they can fly have no boundaries They envy us our powerful stance To befriend this creature is to realize the wisdom they hold In the morning their song tells us the history of man In the evening they beg we not repeat ourselves again At night while we nestle in our beds the soft chirps of what we should be and how we could see play soundly for they see the same view high up in the sky anger, hate, love, death, destruction, hope I pity and I envy for their wings and songs of mope