Bird song

Day has broken;

the silver shadows,

diaphanous in their haze,

make their way slowly,

streaked through with the palest shades

of the morning.


I have searched

far and wide for this,

a majestic maple,

from the top of which

I swell my breast with the sweet

breath of the morning.


Here I sit, who will hear this song of mine?

I sing for the morning,

weaving through the lingering night.

I sing for the promise of the day to come,

bringing light for growth.

I sing for all the world to hear.


I sing for you

About aletalane

I am a learner.
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