The crows performed a mad dance in the sky when Ape decided to stab a piece of meat on the ground with one of their lost feather. They seemed to be in a panic mode screaming in circle around the target but never approaching it… So many interpretations from the most gruesome to the extreme anodyne came to mind. I had stopped guessing a long while back because the patterns never correspond, the patterns aren’t present at all.

There is no why in poetry or imagination there is and that’s it. The gifted ones always let the magic come in and take over, for a second or a century, invade their senses and carry them away. The others fights and are tormented losing their minds in answering questions. But are they questions? Finally there are the ones that can’t see anything and despises the other 2 kinds.

I am more and more in the time void created by the black birds, unsure and a bit lost. I already got answers in letting go.