At night the bird flew,
Over oceans of trees
Past hills and mountains
Swept by the breeze

He sang an odd song
As he soared through the sky
He woke up the moon
As he passed it by

To where he was headed
The bird did not know
He just knew to sing
When the stars hung low

But the moon knew well
That old avian's course
To sow strange dreams
Without time or source

The moon recalled
When the bird once knew
Of his place in the heavens
Where light once grew

But now the bird simply flies
And sings its strange tune
Through oceans of night
Under the sleeping moon