When Starlings fly
In scores and hoards the starlings fly,
Surfing and curling streak the sky,
In soundless view as if a dream,
Across the open blue they stream.
Sailing on current's gift of lift,
Swiftly turning and slowly drift.
Whirling east, west, south and north,
They wax and wane back and forth.
And I soar in rapport with them,
And sing their freedom's requiem.
Parole my soul, their boldness hail,
Those cresting trails they smartly sail.
They heat my heart and warm my blood,
When starlings' show and wing in flood,
They scale a grandeur of regale,
Beyond wonder and without bail.
They ply and vie where angels fly
Yet lay with us where we would lie.