A tea party with the birds

The one with the Mourning Dove

Hot,sweet tea slithers it's way down your throat...
Am I a bird?
Or human?
Maybe a monster perhaps a figment of a little girls imagination...A lonley little girl I assume...
To what of use of a girl if she cannot speak, and to what of you am I, if not spoken to just then the quiet sounding call of a distant Mourning bird rang through the forest, it flies and flies and finnaly reaches the branch I was sitting on.
"Hullo, my what a strange bird you are!"

"Must all winged creatures be birds?"

"I suppose not young one, but please tell me,I'm curious for my call brings only sorrow to those of the human kind yet, you aren't very sorrowful,tell me how and why you came to be?"
"I wish I could tell you, sorrowful mourning bird...but not even I know."
"What a pity..."
watching as the mourning bird flew off sounding it's call once more I took another sip of tea...
How did I come to be? And why do I exist?