Cuentos para Kati X

The little bird found himself caught in the mirror, attempting to see his whole face, but his eyes are not made to look ahead, his eyes are not made to see straight, his eyes are not made to give themselves a name, his eyes are made to have faith.

As the flock drank water and searched for provisions, the little bird kept trying to see his face, though he could only see half of it, but with plenty of time, you can end up believing you are one, with plenty of time, you can end up believing you are alone. With plenty of time, you can end up believing you are two, the left and the right, the bad and the good one.

He did not hear the call, the dots aiming at joining, the whistling wind and the choreography starting. Absorbed and aching to define himself, he thought of going deep into the water, hoping to have mirrors at every possible angle and at the same time, but his eyes are not made to see straight, his eyes are made to have faith.

Confused, desperate and without air, he remembered all those days, flying, feeling the wind, looking only at those by his side, following and leading the dance, without himself, without a name, just flowing with faith. He remembered the gentle touch of wings and the sweet warmness of feeling part of something greater than himself, greater than any of them.

As the black became deeper, the mirrors melted in the peaceful waves, same as in the air, when he became one with his friends, with his mates, with the wind and the air. When his friend pulled him from the water, the tears in his eyes, reminded him all those days, when he had faith in those around, when he didn't worry about himself, when he didn't need to define himself. 

By the shore of the lake, the little bird saw the flock waiting for him, waiting for one of them and realized that his eyes were not made to see straight, but to have faith in those around. Every dot might need to define itself, maybe many times, but the flock is always there to remind us that we are one, even if we seem as many.