Whispers of the Winged Seers

As crimson leaves surrender to the breeze,
And summer's warmth begins to gently wheeze,
A feathered ballet paints the twilight sky,
Their southward journey, a silent, knowing cry.

Swallows gather, wings like cutting blades,
A whispered warning of winter's icy braids.
Geese in V-formation, honking low,
Foretell of snowdrifts, where the wild winds blow.

But wait, a flash of indigo alight,
A jay declares a sun-drenched, warm delight.
Cardinals, crimson against the frosted pane,
Promise a thaw, a gentle winter's rain.

High in the mountains, where eagles soar,
Their watchful gaze perceives the storms that roar.
A silent screech, a dip of feathered wing,
Speaks of blizzards brewing, winter's bitter sting.

And yet, a flicker in the sunlit trees,
A golden flash that brings the gentle breeze.
Orioles, vibrant against the budding green,
Sing of spring's embrace, a sunlit, joyous scene.

They are the oracles, the feathered seers,
With wisdom woven in their downy spheres.
They read the whispers of the wind's soft sigh,
And paint the future in their painted sky.

Let not the winter's bite nor summer's blaze
Take you by surprise in nature's wondrous maze.
For in their calls, a hidden message lies,
Whispered tales of storms and sunlit skies.

So heed the chorus, feathered friends above,
And trust their wisdom, borne on wings of love.
They are the storytellers, wild and free,
Forecasting futures, just for you and me.

LINE COUNT: 32 Lines
WRITTEN FOR: "WINNER and NEW PROMPT, due 3-Feb-2024!"  
PROMPT: Of course you know that today is Groundhog Day. Write a story or poem about an animal (not a groundhog or human) who predicts the weather.