In the morning light, they take to flight,
Their wings spread wide, a graceful sight.
The sky becomes their endless stage,
As they dance in nature’s silent rage.

With feathers bright in hues so bold,
They tell stories of the days of old.
Through clouds and winds, they find their way,
Singing songs at the break of day.

From tree to tree, they glide and soar,
Their freedom something to adore.
In whispers soft, they share their dreams,
A chorus flowing like gentle streams.

Under the moon’s silver gaze,
They rest in night’s serene embrace.
Awaiting dawn to rise again,
To fill the skies and hearts of men.