Where Do Wild Birds Die

WHERE DO WILD BIRDS DIE

Their forms outlined against the sky,

I wonder where they go to die.

Their song it trills with sweet refrain,

Melodic sounds above the rain.

Their graceful moves are wondrous too,

The plumage Red, Gold, Green and Blue.

I search the land for those who fell,

Their feathered friends will never tell.

Feathers seen upon the ground,

Their little bodies never found.

In fact, I think they simply fly,

Far away from you and I.

That is where they go to rest,

Secure and safe, in heaven’s breast.