The Great Migration

It’s finally spring – time to sing;
As we prepare for a daring flight.
With only the stars to guide our way,
We fly at dusk tonight.
 
A perilous path lies just ahead,
O’er many miles of open sea;
With no place to land to rest our heads,
There’s no turning back, you see?
 
It’s a 3-day flight across the ocean,
With a thousand miles left to go!
And we must stay in constant motion,
Or it’s… well, I think you know.
 
Some of us are bound to die,
Only the strongest will survive.
Through violent winds and rain, we'll fly;
We'll be lucky to make it out alive.
 
But those who do will be rewarded,
Those winged, feathered warriors...
Will finally reach the promised land,
As worn and weathered warblers.
 
They’ll feast upon the finest fruits,
The spoils of their tireless labor;
Nourished by the sweetest nectar
From flowers of many different flavors.
 
But the ending of this great migration
Is the beginning of the end for them.
6 months from now, they'll turn around
And fly right back again!