seeking...

Mood: uneasy
Book: YPA
Music: No puedo vivir sin ti - Bely Basarte


The birds fly away,

they seem to know where they go all the time,

no flick of the wing seems unintentional,

they don't seem distracted...

There's always a mission to fulfil...

The chirping as a call for their flock,

no stains in their hearts

no stains on their consciences...

the wind guides them...

There's always a mission to go to...

They don't seem to be seeking,

nor lost,

the traced trail even seems on purpose...

and there's a glimpse of freedom...

They are constantly doing their will

no distraction...

it doesn't matter the weather,

they weather it, they own it!

I thought I was a bird,

but I had never been,

the wind has moved me,

and when there's no wind... I standstill.