Birds. Fliers of the night, angels of the day. Constantly taking to the heavans. They guard the sky like dragons a treasure; like a mother her child. They spy on us with a everlating curiosity that never extinguishes. Yellow marbles in the night sky. A everlasting wisdom they keep; though, they can never have enough. People look onto them with amazement, for they can do what we can not. They are inspirations for great pieces of art, for they are pieces of art themselves. Each vibrant feather, each glossy pupil, is a stroke from God's paintbrush. Belive what I tell you, because seeing is beliving, and we see them everyday.

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