The bird that sang it

Oh, winged creatures of the sky so high, In your realm, you soar, you fly. With grace and beauty, you paint the air, In every flutter, a tale to share. From the robin's song at break of dawn, To the eagle's cry above the lawn. Each feathered friend, a symbol of grace, In every flight, a sacred space. Confident in your majestic flight, Through winds and storms, you take your plight. Unfettered by the chains of fear, You glide above, your message clear. Free from the shackles of colonization's hold, In every forest, valley, and wold. Your melodies ring, pure and true, A testament to freedom, old and new. Believing in the power within, You rise above, against the din. Negativity's grasp, you do defy, With wings of hope, you touch the sky. Neutral in every situation you face, With positivity's embrace. You find solutions, amidst the strife, Guided by the rhythm of life. Oh, birds of beauty, birds of might, In your presence, hearts take flight. May your songs forever ring, In the tapestry of life, you'll forever sing.