Insightful Wild Ride Birds
Wild birds without names
I see them in the sky
If only I could name them all
I’m not like the one who knows all of their names
Wild Birds, we are when we understand the code
Freedom of thought reprimands our golden mode
So, only the lonely roamers bemoan losing their hopefulness
To fly high on their own in the blue zones
Because they're imaginative bemoaners with
Freedom of thought reprimanding the golden mode
Those birds love to be loners
Perched on a limb that grows
Because they're bemoaners
Very few know the ownership of Oaks
That trees are free to house their own birds
Perched on a limb that grows
Old trees hide animals in them
Of all shapes and sizes sent
By Cosmos to sing gentle songs
That provide long rest in honor of nature.
If I could be a bird, I would be free enough
To ask you to travel with me.
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