2 views
The Pigeon’s Project: A Parable of Chaos and Contemplation
Part 1
I soar through the sky like a feathered wizard on a mission, trying to make sense of this perplexing project. Below, I hear voices in a muddle, stories so muted they could use a volume boost. In the whirlpool of emotions and the puzzle of disorders, tears are falling like leaky faucets and hearts are sinking like lead balloons.
I try to peer into hearts for love and into souls for hope, but land on a tree none the wiser. Analyzing this project seems as futile as asking a squirrel for stock tips.
Part 2
Restlessness has taken over, and my feathers are crawling with metaphorical fleas. I welcome the nocturnal gang who’ve set up camp in the treetops. They’re grumbling about the dwindling scraps and stiff competition, as if they’re auditioning for a reality show on survival.
Despite my endless hopping and pecking, I’m baffled by the humans below. They come seeking peace, yet their conversations are a comedy of errors. They think positivity will save them, but deep down, they know their world is a bit of a circus.
As dawn approaches, the forest is buzzing with drama. The fat old owl is on a worm-hunt like it’s the latest diet craze. Lovebirds are in a tiff over an egg that a dingo fancied for breakfast. The myths are floating away like hot air balloons as everyone seems to be in a snooze-fest without a plan.
Part 3
The humans continue their lively debate about safety and destiny. They seem convinced that everything is karmic, which, judging by their complaints, must be a cosmic joke. Their focus is on avoiding snakes, while I, the pigeon, unintentionally play the role of an avian troublemaker.
The conversation takes a turn for the absurd as they argue over who’s to blame for the pigeon poop—me, of course. Amid their squabbles, I can’t help but drop a twig, which inadvertently triggers a chain reaction of chaos.
As things spiral, the lovebirds split up, the dingo’s appetite gets the better of him, and the owl chokes on a worm like it’s an epic fail. The snake makes a surprise appearance, but my retaliation is so unexpected it makes the snake forget its hissing.
I decide to bail on this circus, searching for a place where life isn’t a three-ring spectacle. I dream of a serene spot, away from the madness, where the only noise is the occasional flap of wings and no one is arguing over cosmic retribution.
As I fly away, I muse over the absurdity of it all. The forest creatures continue their antics, and I, the pigeon, take my leave, hoping to find a quiet corner where I can just be, away from the chaos and comedy of existence.
© All Rights Reserved
I soar through the sky like a feathered wizard on a mission, trying to make sense of this perplexing project. Below, I hear voices in a muddle, stories so muted they could use a volume boost. In the whirlpool of emotions and the puzzle of disorders, tears are falling like leaky faucets and hearts are sinking like lead balloons.
I try to peer into hearts for love and into souls for hope, but land on a tree none the wiser. Analyzing this project seems as futile as asking a squirrel for stock tips.
Part 2
Restlessness has taken over, and my feathers are crawling with metaphorical fleas. I welcome the nocturnal gang who’ve set up camp in the treetops. They’re grumbling about the dwindling scraps and stiff competition, as if they’re auditioning for a reality show on survival.
Despite my endless hopping and pecking, I’m baffled by the humans below. They come seeking peace, yet their conversations are a comedy of errors. They think positivity will save them, but deep down, they know their world is a bit of a circus.
As dawn approaches, the forest is buzzing with drama. The fat old owl is on a worm-hunt like it’s the latest diet craze. Lovebirds are in a tiff over an egg that a dingo fancied for breakfast. The myths are floating away like hot air balloons as everyone seems to be in a snooze-fest without a plan.
Part 3
The humans continue their lively debate about safety and destiny. They seem convinced that everything is karmic, which, judging by their complaints, must be a cosmic joke. Their focus is on avoiding snakes, while I, the pigeon, unintentionally play the role of an avian troublemaker.
The conversation takes a turn for the absurd as they argue over who’s to blame for the pigeon poop—me, of course. Amid their squabbles, I can’t help but drop a twig, which inadvertently triggers a chain reaction of chaos.
As things spiral, the lovebirds split up, the dingo’s appetite gets the better of him, and the owl chokes on a worm like it’s an epic fail. The snake makes a surprise appearance, but my retaliation is so unexpected it makes the snake forget its hissing.
I decide to bail on this circus, searching for a place where life isn’t a three-ring spectacle. I dream of a serene spot, away from the madness, where the only noise is the occasional flap of wings and no one is arguing over cosmic retribution.
As I fly away, I muse over the absurdity of it all. The forest creatures continue their antics, and I, the pigeon, take my leave, hoping to find a quiet corner where I can just be, away from the chaos and comedy of existence.
© All Rights Reserved
