Do you ever feel that sometimes you just want to be something else in this world? Let's open up our imagination and start to see this world in different perspective.
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| Imagine if you have a pair of wings like pigeons |
Dark bluish-grey head
Glossy greenish and reddish-purple
Iridescence around your neck
Suppose, you were a pigeon in New York City, you saw
Hundreds of cliffs,
Glossy, sky-blue color, shining like the Sun
You can feel the motion of air, passing through each fabric
Of your meticulous layering twin black wing bars
The same air that you inhale into your air sacs
Imagine the flexibility of your vision
The point where you can see two very distinct feelings
When you walked down across the oasis of puddle on a
slippery dark surface
You looked up, glossy cliffs, giant trees, and feet of
humans
You turned around and realized that you were small, very
very small
The unfolding transformation of your wings to the open air,
Your body was lighter and lighter,
You passed the first cliff, passed the higher cliff, and
passed the highest cliff,
Off into the sky, you had never flown at this altitude
before
Everything changed, where mountains were smaller than your
red skinny feet
Where the entire New York City was no larger than your
wingspan
Where the blazing sunset was like a tiny circle on your eyes
You deserved to be in this universe
If you were a feral pigeon in New York City,
Then you would be having the ability to choose
When you feel really small and the earth is squeezing
Take a deep breath and fly away
When you feel overwhelmed with the altitude,
You can always find a way down
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