| Once there was a mama bird who flew across the sea
|
| Carrying her fledgling young aloft upon the breeze
|
| Time had come to migrate as a chill fell on the land
|
| The fledglings were too weak to fly, too young to understand
|
| Mama took them on her back, the three into the sky
|
| They set upon a journey with a prayer and a sigh
|
| Mama, where do we fly?
|
| Where are we welcome and where will we thrive?
|
| Mama, where do we fly?
|
| Where are we going and will we survive?
|
| The journey was exhausting but at last, a shore was found
|
| The fledglings leapt off mama as she crashed into the ground
|
| It took some time to learn how to adapt to the new clime
|
| But food was found, and shelter, and it felt stable in time
|
| The family was grateful to survive another day
|
| But they missed the life they had and all their friends so far away
|
| Mama, where do we fly?
|
| Where are we welcome and where will we thrive?
|
| Mama, where do we fly?
|
| Where are we going and will we survive?
|
| As years passed, other families from other far-off lands
|
| Began to cross the ocean and to wash up on the sand
|
| The fledglings and the neighbours felt themselves to be as one
|
| They scarcely could identify with new birds on the run
|
| They feared that all the new birds would bring violence and disease
|
| Despite an old familiar song aloft upon the breeze
|
| Mama, where do we fly?
|
| Where are we welcome and where will we thrive?
|
| Mama, where do we fly?
|
| Where are we going and will we survive? |