The four winds tickling the sky at the equatorial tropics
Whisk wind socks like swizzle sticks stirring polar artics,
Wrapsickling the northern sphere in autumn semantics.
Sensing in their DNA the call of the bones of their ancestry,
Migratory birds glide in the updrafts of inherited history,
Leaving the unbound Phoenix of their future; their chicks
To fledge on the trade wind dynasty of their avian instincts.