As do the birds.

Until I fall from this perch in this mineshaft I will paint myself yellow and sing like a canary. I will swoop with the grace of a magpie and steal small wisps of yr hair. I will hold it all in my pelican beak, sift through the fluid and find the fish. I will duck below water and resurface with light droplets that run off my back.

Until the last flower is forraged. Until all the nests have been flown and the water dries up and the sun ceases rising, I will warble and swoop and soar.