Against a canvas of fiery hues,
Their wings brush the thick, expressive strokes,
Of an abstract forest ablaze.
Amidst crimson leaves and golden branches,
They soar, defying gravity's pull,
Their dance a celebration of life,
In this vibrant, autumnal symphony.
Each stroke of color whispers secrets,
Of seasons changing, of transitions,
And the birds, like brushstrokes,
Weave their story across the canvas.
So let them fly, these spectral messengers,
Their wings a testament to resilience,
In this fiery forest, they find solace,
And in their flight, we find hope.
