The migration is under way.
Clothed like flowers, fed like the trees, one great big family, aloft along with the breeze. How do they know as fearless they go to and fro, like schools of fish in the sea. Swimming through the air without so much as a care, as one with the born right to be free. Fearless to what will be, in a new place good and sweet. Bugs and worms, grains and berries, branches and bushes, grasses and ant hills, wandering and nesting, teach the next generation to find, a life to live while upon the Earth and then up into the sky to fly.
And how do they know how?
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