In morning’s gentle embrace,
The sky becomes their stage,
With wings that paint the dawn,
A canvas beyond age.

Their songs, a sweet refrain,
Echo through the vast sky,
Carried by the winds of time,
As clouds quietly sigh.

In freedom’s boundless flight,
They weave tales of the sun,
Dancing with the golden light,
Until the day is done.

As dusk’s veil softly falls,
They rest on branches high,
Dreaming of tomorrow’s call,
Beneath the starry sky.