• mjqutbi 5w

    The feather

    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.

    Mo'iz Qutbi.