Unto the western skies
She is making her morning flight.
Unto the waters of life
She is opening out her wings.
Thro’ the thickness of the morning mist,
It is all a lonesome flight.
Upon her wings and throbbing chest
She carries the call of her chicks.
Till the eve, in ardent thoughts,
They gaze unto the western skies.
And at the sight of their mother
They are drawn to a celestial happiness.
There- after a day’s weariness
She is back into her chestnut tree.
From a distant stream and windy fields,
She hath brought the grains of life.
And she shares it with her chicks,
Nurses them unto the silent night and waking dreams.
And, feeling for the distant meads,
She closes her eyes for yet another morning flight.