The Mystery of the Flock

Anonymous above me, only geese to the rest,
To me, they’re a miracle in air.
These birds hatched from eggs, they’re simple, you say,
Yet they soar, in a V overhead.

Tell me your secrets, how you know where to go,
The time to take off, where to land.
Continental migrations, vast flocks on the wing,
With a brilliance I can’t comprehend

They call to each other, but never to me
What do they say, as they glide?
“Come closer to me, stay with the pack!”
Or “The future’s ahead! Let us fly!”