Upon the morning’s gentle rise,
The spiritual birds take to the skies,
With wings that shimmer in the light,
They guide the souls through endless night.
Their songs, a symphony of grace,
Echo through the sacred space,
Each note a whisper of the divine,
A melody that transcends time.
Beneath the canopy of ancient trees,
They dance with the celestial breeze,
Guardians of the path unseen,
Messengers in realms serene.
As twilight fades to stars above,
They carry whispers of pure love,
Reminding all that wander here,
That the spirit world is always near.