A bird that flies
Is a moment spent feeling
Air on the back of its wings
And water spraying from the
Ocean far below
And trees that grow and change
With grasses reaching far above
And birds that join one
Become two, and three
And flocking through the
Orange skies
Becomes a dream, a soft
Calling of the night energy
Surrounded by friends
And the moon rises
Slowly, making darkness
Seep into the bones
Of every bird, as they lay
Down for the night
To wait for the sun to rise
May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 7:42 PM UTC
A bird that flies
Is a moment spent feeling
Air on the back of its wings
And water spraying from the
Ocean far below
And trees that grow and change
With grasses reaching far above
And birds that join one
Become two, and three
And flocking through the
Orange skies
Becomes a dream, a soft
Calling of the night energy
Surrounded by friends
And the moon rises
Slowly, making darkness
Seep into the bones
Of every bird, as they lay
Down for the night
To wait for the sun to rise
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