Ten Thousand....Birds

In the faint silvery splendor... just before the crest of dawn
when the dark moon still holds sway
mellow troubadours of the song of earth, angels of the heavens
begin their ritual serenade, a chorus of ten thousand birds
sing forth the coming light___ a new day.

Sounds of every pitch and hue weave spun golden notes
on morning’s soft cool breeze...
in melodic formation, every branch every bush is alive
with tiny oral sonnets...wooing the sleepy sun to rise
and travel across lapis vaulted skies.

Voices raised in grateful prayer, anew cycle has begun
ten thousand birds, eager await the new red-gold disk
song birds gather within___the sanctuary of an emerald
green church...vivid vessels of creation, wings spread
they dance to the sweetness of the gift to man.

A distant noise, a backdoor closing startles the heavy air
and these denizens of lyrical verse
with one fluid motion grace abounds as they take flight
dressing the sparkling clouds of___ Gaea in black shade
ten thousand birds demigods of Terra’s pull, glide in the flaxen
radiance of day.