Flock of aves direct their dance towards a pole.

Northerly, they head towards heaven antemundane and possible answers to what terrestrials do not know.

Southerly, they perch for rest on a farm where the lonesome hinny relays horse sense for share and show.

Easterly, they propitiate the clouds in hopes of earning opportunity for gliding as the pressure turns high to low.

Westerly, melancholic from prolific migration, they-birbs yearn for urbane-burbs’ windows aglow.

Aves flocked-but-free course where either wind does blow or where alighting occurs on goal. ; )