You can hear him in the early morning.
He’s conducting classical lessons with
the birds swarmed around him, listening in
on trees. The air he so freely breathes, filters
through his lips and is released as this harmonious
melody. He has no need for a violin with strings or
any instrumental tool, a real musician would seek.
These birds were fascinated by his innate ability to
conjure the same sweet sounding noises, such as the
ones they to, can squeeze through their own beaks. It is
ironic to see that this poet has more in common with
the flying creatures he see’s than with his own humanity.