Most Likely, The Fist Poem by Shelta Realms

Birds that chirp on a Wednesday noon
have left some marks beside intervening shades and lights.
'Tweet! Tweet! ' to the amethyst,
'Tweet! Tweet! ' to the sapphire.
Tweet or tweet is what they speak
of jibed moves
and conspired fleets.

Moving skyward, quasi leaps.
To fly is to fall, to shout is to heed.
Lie to forsee, careful not to be caught
by your own 'Tweet! '
How sweet it sounds to the catcher's senses
That is why there are a lot of cognitive birds uprising.

'Tweet' to thy water, 'Tweet' to thy gold,
of purest essence and suppressed economy.
Needless to say, birds spread their dignity
a while ago in the frying pan,
ready to be rendered on the hot dusty sun.
What bravado is to el pajaro?