Choruses of songbirds lift my eyelids
for the fourth time since five.
The harmonies tenderly resonate in my ears
Singing me to life
Purity where I house guilt,
the songbirds spout glorious praise,
Honestly awake when I lie still
it is no wonder I hide from the light.
With a beautiful song, he bobs through the light
that he wears on his wings
Unafraid to be heard and no reason to fear
for he is not broken, for he has not sinned.
The songbirds sing me to wake
And I soberly stare at the shadows of trees
where they perch so fleetingly,
and I long to sing in the innocence of morning.
