A feather floating through the air,
Free to go where the winds blow.
Which bird it belonged to I do not know,
But attempts to get my hands on it were futile
Every time I grabbed for it, it slipped through my fingers.
For long I followed this floating feather,
Running behind it and trying to make it mine.
But then this floating beauty got caught in the clutches of a branch, struggling to break free
And I realized that it should fly.