In the azure dome high,

With white wisps floating by,

Multitudes of chattering forms,

Light up silent morns

Into the blue skies they fly

Born, eat, breed, die

There are those who think high,

In the flock they stay,

Thoughts of change on their minds,

Anticipating the messiah one day,

Struggling the bonds that bind

Not courage enough to speak aloud,

There are those who dream high,

Circling the thoughts of heavens,

Denizens of cliffs rock beds,

Silent than up high than else

Seeking, working on change below.