A little bird told me that,
Birds cannot raise their wings without constantly beating
Birds cannot be far away without airflow reinforcing
Birds cannot travel for a long time without the weather urging migration
Birds cannot accelerate without prey or being chased.
Another little bird also told me that,
Birds can nest for hours to rest
And they can fast for days before a fest
Or stand on the branch with their bony shanks
Hibernate until fully charged.
Another little crazy bird also told me that,
Roosting, nesting, flying – “two” anytime, anywhere
By releasing while resting, they would be involved in what was unleashed
But they can freely excrete wherever they want from the wind
In the middle of the infinite Pacific Ocean, the eternal jasmine rice field, or a bustling city never sleeps.
There is joy in stalking objects down there
If the bird flies, the globe spins, the target moves, and the waste is on point
It is not just fate
But if the target stays, a good shot probably happens
It is not any fun.
As birds’ joys,
If we stand in one place, sh!t is on our heads often
Move!
Spread those unseen wings, and race away from normality
Follow any weirdo endeavor that excited
Whether we go, ride a bike, or fly a projectile
A mile per hour or thousands per second doesn’t matter
As long as we widen the variable of being pass(iv)ed
Let’s narrow the possibility of reaching the unexplored
After a good hibernation.
Keep moving, humans, a little bird says.
I fancy hunting you run, a little bird says.
- Initial: February 24, 2023
- Edited: March 10, 2023