Changing clouds of black birds flying
By my window as I write,
Tempting me to keep on spying;
Every night my eyes are prying
Till they’re lost in dying light.
Held in trance while they’re performing
I forget my former muse.
Thoughts are smothered while they’re swarming,
While they’re endlessly transforming
On the beat of random cues.
When the jackdaws merge together
They incite a stronger tale.
As if with their song of chatter
They award, before they scatter,
A new story to unveil.
Gazing upon their formation
Empties what was on my mind.
But with every deprivation
Hatches newborn inspiration,
By dynamics wings designed.
Since their daily interference
Cultivates a higher theme,
With its liquefied coherence,
Is their punctual appearance
By me held in high esteem.
|Jerry CorstensA visionary dreamer with a blind passion for self-reflection and contemplating life, a self-proclaimed philosopher with poetic ambitions. He’s serious about helping people with the insights he gathered, but playful in the way he communicates his wisdom. It made him leave a career as environmental engineer behind, in favor of becoming a personal development coach and thought-provoking writer.|