The Birds of The Air and the Flowers of the Field

Oh, bird in flight, your burden is light
With cellophane bones and pin black eyes
You trust in the skies, you trust in the breeze
You trust in the branch, trust in the leaves
Trust in the leaves
In the leaves
In the leaves
Oh wildflower no trembling nor terror
Blooming today then thrown in the fire
Appropriately attired, these bleeding hearts tracking the sun from dawn to set
From dawn to set
Dawn to set
Dawn to set
It’s in the nature of things
Seen and unseen
The posture of the creature for the human being
It’s parabolically precise and therefore incomplete
Or maybe not but abstract at the very least
Like what about, what about, what about?
What about, what about, what about?
What about, what about, what about?
Oh, father deer, what do you fear?
And are you aware the hunter is near?
Who shall mourn, when you collapse in the snow
And lay down your head, lay down your horn?
Lay down your horn?
Down your horn?
Down your horn?