Birds fly and sing,
singing songs of joy,
all with different but matching colours,
their wings wide enough,
their sense of humour not noticed,
but they sing,
songs of wonder,
i wonder who is their choir master,
a Mrs. or a Mr.,
a young lady or a beautiful young lady,
these ears,
oh! this year, i will be at peace,
beautiful birds sing,
sing my year to merry,
cries of a hardened heart now soften,
a heart that felt heat from the sun and the moon at the same time,
but now it touches laughs and sees beautiful,
the beauty of hearing rhythms which you do not understand, but only makes sense to my troubles and worries,
birds of wonder with their songs of wonder,
they serve love with their voices and crush hate with their beauty.
Dark hands 