Birds

Birds sing their

song each day,

the wind walks

around us.

Their eyes spill

the lands, the skies.

They speak

with tongues of fire,

and we listen

with wonder.

What grace,

we take our flight; may

we once more reach

the stars that dance.

All is one.

All is whole,

and the day

settles down

to a stillness.

We will return

when the night

calls.

• William Carlos Williams