Upon the morning’s tender rise, they soar,
Through skies painted with the dawn’s first light,
Their wings whisper secrets never told before,
A dance of freedom in the endless flight.

Through verdant forests dense and deep,
Where shadows play and rivers gently bend,
Their songs of ancient tales softly seep,
A chorus of the wild, a timeless friend.

In twilight’s glow, they find their rest,
Perched beneath the stars’ eternal gaze,
Their hearts aligned with nature’s gentle crest,
As moonlight weaves its silvery maze.

So let us listen to their silent hymn,
And marvel at their grace and fleeting form,
For in their flight, our dreams can brim,
With hope and peace, a calm amidst the storm.