Let’s say we see the world in frames,
let’s say everything is visual. Imagine
this – a field of birds, spilling into sky;
the solitary path of a pigeon touched
as gently as a shotgun can. Picture
a bird gingerly leaving its nest, sat
inside the open mouth of a cadaver.
That’s how the world will reinvent
what it means to be lonely, to be
a multitude in a sea of multitudes.
I am sitting at a cafe with you
and your absence. It’s like
you’re on a bus ride far
far away from here and
I could not afford a ticket.
I think of geese and their migration,
their flights eastward or toward wherever
may provide a bigger harvest of worms
and lakewater. What is a lake
but a canvas waiting to be coloured in feathers?
Who was the first one to see these creatures
as metaphors for freedom, growth, whatever
when all they do is fly about aimlessly
in search of meals and shelter?
In that sense, we are all nomads, pilgrims.
in that sense, we are all going somewhere
and in that sense all the birds will form a flock
and wrap the Earth in quiet.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.