Birdsong

Birdsong
I wonder,
   Do birds find their own songs beautiful?
Does a meadowlark know its melody
   Is itself a soothing memory which it keeps recalling?
Do the wrens know their warbling
   Takes the edge off the morning?
I bet none of them know.
Nor can they, but still I am filled
   with the desire to tell them.
I want to sing to them,
  To soothe them,
    To faithfully take the edges off their every grey
        moment,
      To show them what they mean to us.
But still they would not understand
   It was only a favor returned.
I know someone very like that.