Songs to the Skies

A hawk soars in the mountains,
Its screeching song an oath,
That when the sun will set and rise,
The hawk will sing for both.

The deer below it watch it,
The sparrows stretch to see,
The hawk that sings above them,
The hawk they want to be.

Across the plains of Africa,
An ostrich croons and leaps,
It sings to the Savannah,
Before and when it sleeps.

It croons for all the lions,
It croons for all the rest,
Even for its enemies,
It croons its very best.

A penguin waddles slowly,
Its beak up in the air,
It's horn-like coo coo cooing,
Cheering penguins everywhere.

It knows that it may never fly,
But even then it sings,
For while it may not touch the sky,
It has a different set of wings.

Swans trumpet in the moonlight,
They trumpet soft at dawn,
They trumpet lovely serenades,
When the sun is gone.

They trumpet to the fishes,
They trumpet to the lake,
They trumpet their sweet trumpet,
That only they can make.

And then there is the robin,
Who stands upon a post,
Steadfast and immovable,
It sings a cheeful toast.

It sings to the mountains,
It sings to the birds,
It sings pretty music,
Even with no words.

The robin's very humble,
It sings for those who try,
For those who can't, for those who want,
For those that sometimes die.

For the robin is the wiser,
It knows that if it sings,
It can make a person soar,
Even without wings.