When do the birds do come

When do the birds do come
For every time I whisper
They sing
All thanking the skies for the berries
Praying after the rain had gone
They drain away yesterday water
To the caterpillar, it flows down
To the green leaves, it performs a stagnant tradition
Dancing, enticing the dew of the morning

When do the birds do come
For the time I see the sun
The heat rises from my left side
Blowing wind to me
The crisp warmth of light
Letting the plays from the talking drum ring
Flowing with fresh soup
Hot to mouth, afresh for breath

When do the birds do come
For the evening, frogs croak
Happy for the residing sun
The returning snake shakes lips
Praying for the fruits of tomorrow
Words from the creaking flies
Biting the ears for a chance to listen
Humming for the light remaining

When do the birds do come
Maybe until the coming of sun
Silently accepting the visit of night
A night blissful with dark

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