What makes us
question
everything,
as if there's
two of us
or more:
chattering,
hovering
always looking
back.
-------------
A bird flies,
does not wonder
if he's good enough
What to do when
he lands,
perhaps not go at all?
And what must
the other birds
think of him?
Should he fly in circles -
lose some weight?
-------------
As a feather
drifts gently
on the breeze -
I just am,
I just do.
That is all.