There is no limit

 

There Is No Limit

 

There is no limit

of how they dance the space:

be North, be East,

they always win the race!

 

They fly straight up,

no matter, West or South:

they never land

in smartest fox’s mouth!

 

They are so small!

In Joy they flap sweet wings.

They play with wind,

when wild tornado spins.

 

A tiny bud,

a swallow speedy arch!

Crossing the continents

to land by us in March!

 

Oh, what a marvel,

Flyer-Masters bringing

Spring on small wings,

with Singer-Masters singing!

.

.

.