That we will know in morning’s dawn
After birds wake us by our life’s song,
The left over of yesterday’s tree music,
Day before yesterday’s and other bird.
Other who we are, we’ll come to hear.
And other who they are ,we will know.
Primarily we will wake up to birdsong
And a god-song of the east reddening.
And if we are yet found short of breath
We resort to a finery of the bird’s nest
Atop the air-conditioner unit,of chicks
After the night’s music was lately over.
We then go over to the fringes of birds
Assembled on internet cable for music.
We’ll know who you are, and the birds
Engaged in shouts on wire parliament.