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.