Song of Chatter

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.

Image: Generated with Chaotica

A philosophical dreamer with a passion for self-reflection and contemplating life. He’s serious about helping people with the insights he gathered, but playful in the way he communicates his wisdom. He left a career as environmental engineer behind, in favor of becoming a personal development coach and thought-provoking writer.

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