By: Masaryk Posted on: September 30, 2013
What stories could be told, crow of Actar,
Delectation, curiosity, or strife
For there are so many,
Those of us, who could learn from them of life
The fleeting avocet,
A seafarer's envy for dangers ahead
Providence, the white crane under The Logos' hand,
Or the eagle with wings from The Divine
The Ithmian wren,
Its boisterous call, the alarm to wake the dead
Come, and teach us the aerial disquisition,
The desire of so many and trait of so few
Like the enigma of the thrush,
Your alluring song, we all shall listen.