The Dream of the Birds

06 November 2025

https://poems.culturing.net/2025/11/the-dream-of-the-birds/

It was never the way it was, it was
always evolving, from one thing to the next,
and our folly was hoping to make it stand still.
By the window I stood and gazed long
at the birds in the widening sun. They flew higher
than I could, but somehow they did not get singed.
Only later I learned they felt empty,
deprived of solid ground. It was never that way, though,
not really, for only in the dream of the birds
such thoughts roost. I once dreamed of flying too,
but now I think ground suits my feet,
and besides, there are worms to eat,
and our hunger for worms is unquenched.