Bird Song

The birds circled in delightful anticipation,
swooning and swaying,
they set out across the broken skyline,
sending a message of hope to the coming dawn,
weaving together a secret message,
decoded by the sky,
blameless blue,
feathered gravity,
patters of hope,
clasping,
at optimism,
restored,
nestled gently,
in feathered creatures,
that fly free like a spirit,
mirage of freedom,
that flock to the tree tops,
in time for the setting sun,
releasing themselves,
to the onset of dreams,
and the coming morrow,
where they will once again wake up, and sing a merry tune,
which lightens the hearts of the weary people,
swooning and swaying,
they set out on their cycle of life, bringing hope to the hopeless.