Chocolate Feather Wing


Picture: Brush Bronze-winged Pigeon by Elizabeth Gould




Charm unnoticed,

Tender touch.

Vigilant and careless

Just as much.

Chocolate feather wing

From a different time,

Of leather belts, cobbles and lime.

Is the past really passed?


Often, we think of history

Forgetting the colours,

Forgetting the mystery.

We use science as a safety mechanism.

Too fond of formulas,

We shrink down possibilities.

And so we walk stumbling…

Blind! To a vast Everything.

We cut ourselves out of the wondrous ways,

The everyday magic of the olden days.



Those days ain’t gone!

They’re right here!

On a plane of existence we can truly access

And dive into indefinitely, without risks of excess.

Unlearn the chains of words

Wrapped around your bones and flesh.

Move that body, let it shake,

Rattling bones, what sound does it make?

Tear down the walls of breast-fed belief,

Let Your true energy expand in relief.


No need to assess the risks,

No need for measurings.

Does the river ask permission to pierce the land?

Does the sea make a petition to dampen the sand?

Do mountains ponder before they crumble and sink?

Does the pigeon hesitate before leaping off the brink?

The brink

Beyond which,

Transformation resides.

Innumerable deaths,

Piles of snakeskins already shed

Swayed and moulded by the winds

Into vortices of stars, birds and dreams.


Chocolate feather wing,

When I saw her she was still,

Sipping coffee at the windowsill.













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