The Flight of Spirit
The birds know nothing, of a mans world,
they fly far above, his flags unfurled.
Their ancestors chose, to slowly arise,
and sail safely past, with unconcerned eyes.
Sometimes we look up, to see their pleasure,
how they ride the wind, is what they treasure.
When natives would see, one fall from the sky,
they would say a prayer, for spirit to fly.
Then when their time came, and the spirit flies,
they will find heaven, with sharp eagle eyes.
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