The sky is alive
Aflutter with wings
Black and white
And of every varied hue
Flocks follow the wind
Livening our skies
Away from cold
Away from ice
Majestic herds 
Follow the rain
To propagate and survive.

Leaving is hard
Difficult
Painful and sad
Arriving is hard
Liberating
Confusing and sad

When all hope seems lost
A vision forms
A brightening horizon 
In the distance
A dim light 
Rekindling hope
Then a mirage
A straining distant arm struggles to hold a torch
Raising it is hard
Difficult
Painful to hold
It is slipping
The beacon dimming

Rising from the sea
The torch bearer cries,
"Turn not your heads
Do not forget your forbearers,
Why they came from distant lands
With many tongues
From persecution
Oppression
War and starvation

See our multicolored sky
How full of working wings
And the marching herds
Willing to lend their hands
They come for freedom
For liberty!
Do not oppose
The Natural Law
Help me lift my arm
Replace my lamp
Throw away their chains!"