Zebra Seeking Spoons

Once there was a songbird small,

whose voice could charm the sky to fall.

Each dawn she sang, each dusk she’d call,

her music known and loved by all.

But one still night, her voice grew thin,

a whisper lost upon the wind.

She tried again, yet none would hear—

her melody had disappeared.

She perched in silence, wings tucked tight,

while moonlight soothed her in the night.

The trees still swayed, the stars still gleamed,

the world was softer than she’d dreamed.

Though songs were gone, she came to know,

there’s beauty still in what can’t show.

For even voiceless, skies turn gold—

and silent wings can still be bold.