life

Tag: birds

  • White Doves. 36

    A feather drifts down—
    Soft, weightless, uncertain path—
    Vanished on the wind.

    Every day, you arrive. Morning, noon, night. Each time, you step through the door like a shadow slipping across the floor. Your presence lingers in the corners of the room, settling into the dust motes caught in the late-afternoon light. Even in silence, you remain. Even when you say nothing, I can hear you.

    The world outside is restless, but inside, time folds into itself. Objects hold their breath; the room brims with quiet. There is a moment when everything aligns—when the world balances between reality and dream, and in that fragile space, white doves settle onto the threshold of our door.

    The Ephemeral Stay

    You have always been more presence than person, more echo than conversation. There is something unspoken between us, stretched tight like an invisible thread. It holds, but only barely. Your movements are deliberate, careful, like someone who has learned to exist without disrupting the silence. But I wonder, if I were to speak first, would you shatter?

    We orbit each other, bound by things neither of us name. The days pass in a quiet symmetry—your arrival, your presence, your leaving. And yet, something remains each time you go. Something weightless but real. Like a dove’s feather left behind in the wake of flight.

    The Inevitable Departure

    Then, you leave. Always the same way. Always with that same look—a quiet hesitation, as if you are running from something, or perhaps toward it. You flee not just from me but from yourself, from the reflection in my eyes that sees you too clearly.

    Behind you, the air remains unsettled. The room exhales. The doorframe hums with absence. And outside, startled doves scatter into the sky, their wings carving paths into the evening air.

    I know one day you will go and not return. One day, you will leave for good. And when that moment comes, you will take the doves with you, banishing them from the doorstep they once claimed as their own.

    Lessons from the Doves

    1. Presence is felt, even in silence — Some people linger long after they leave the room. Pay attention to the spaces they fill.
    2. Not all departures are sudden — Some unravel slowly, step by step, until there is nothing left to hold.
    3. Avoidance is its own kind of closeness — Running from something means acknowledging its pull.
    4. Moments of stillness are fleeting — The world shifts, doves scatter, time moves forward. Nothing stays in place forever.
    5. One day, all doors will close — Cherish the moments before they do.

    A gust of wind lifts the last feather from the doorstep. It spirals into the sky, carried toward something unknown. And with it, the door closes, the doves disappear, and all that remains is the space where you once stood.

  • Like Two Gulls. 29

    A cry on the waves—
    Drifting close yet flying free—
    The sea holds their past.

    There was a morning when the mist lay thick over the water, soft as breath. The world was hushed, the sea stretched out in waiting. Two gulls glided across the sky, their wings cutting through the quiet, their cries breaking against the horizon. For a moment, they moved in perfect harmony—one rising, the other dipping, their reflections flickering on the water below. Then, as if caught by separate winds, they drifted apart.

    The Echo of Two Voices

    There is a moment between closeness and distance, a space where everything still feels whole, even as it begins to break. Two voices once singing in unison find themselves fading into separate notes. Two children once running side by side now walk alone. Even the graves we leave behind bear the imprint of what was, a whisper of all that still lingers in memory.

    Time carries us forward, but it does not erase. The laughter of yesterday does not disappear just because today is quiet. The love once given does not dissolve even when hands let go. Like two gulls suspended in the sky, we cross paths, we intertwine, and then we separate, bound not by permanence but by the echoes we leave in one another.

    The Inescapable Distance

    The sea does not belong to any single wave, just as we do not belong to a single moment. Some things slip through our fingers no matter how tightly we hold them. The people we love, the mornings we take for granted, the voices that once called our name—they move away, drawn by unseen currents. And yet, even as they vanish into the horizon, their presence lingers, like the memory of a wing cutting through the sky.

    There is sorrow in this, yes. But also beauty. The knowledge that nothing lasts forever makes every meeting sacred. If we lived in a world where no one ever left, where no laughter faded, where no graves were dug—would we truly cherish the moments we are given?

    1. Fly Together, Even If Briefly – Life gives us companions for a time; treasure the flight while it lasts.
    2. Accept the Distance – Not all paths remain parallel, but that does not make them meaningless.
    3. Hold Without Clutching – The tighter you try to grasp something, the quicker it slips away. Love should be open-handed.
    4. Let the Echo Stay – What was real will always leave a mark, even if it is unseen.
    5. Embrace the Open Sky – Every farewell is also an invitation to something new, an empty sky waiting to be filled.

    As the mist lifted that morning, the two gulls faded into the endless blue. Their cries still lingered in the air, long after they had vanished. I stood there watching, the sky above me vast and open, knowing that even when something is no longer seen, it does not mean it is gone.

    Somewhere beyond the horizon, they would meet again.