The animal that sings its songs
And doesn’t care who listens;
Who sits beneath a crescent moon
Upon a branch that glistens
From tears that gather with the dew,
Until the sunrise swelling;
The nightingale, who’s flown so far
His joy now’s in
The telling
Truly beautiful words. <3
And free of your cage you will always sing. Forgive us for singing in response or maybe let it be a reason to smile?
🙂