The first rays of a rejuvenated sun kisses the tired night, the birth of a new day. Tears of the winds slowly trickles down the stems of elated flowers, the smell of first light, tickles the innocence within.
Before we got tainted by a unforgiving world. It transport ones consciousness to a time when we heard the morning birds, we woke up with glee when our eyes were a kaleidoscope of hope when the dark truth of this world we could not see.
I can hear them with song sing out my name the sound of pure delight as they flutter and fly around the trees a true harmonious sight, with whimsical appeal of freedom, this is sweet melody in flight.
Pure freedom, a feather in the wind. Carried in time exempt. Free from obligation to be a puppet for corporations. Alluding to freedom that they created. How I wish I could hear those birds sing aloud, more clearly.