Answer:
I fly through the air on small feathered wings, seeking out life and destroying all things.
A shimmering field that reaches far. Yet it has no tracks, And is crossed without paths.
What is it that given one, you’ll have either two or none?
White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.
It's in your hand though you can not feel it. Only you and time can reveal it.
I can only be played on a windy day