In the amber glow of dawn’s first light,
A chorus of wings takes flight,
Painting skies with whispers so bright,
Birds in symphony, a soul’s delight.

Through ancient trees, their songs weave,
With every note, our hearts they cleave,
Feathered minstrels, they do not deceive,
In their melody, we believe.

Across valleys and mountains high,
They dance in the endless sky,
Free spirits, they do not lie,
To their freedom, we all sigh.

At dusk, as the sun bids adieu,
They return with a promise true,
To sing once more, as the day is new,
Birds, our eternal muse, through and through.