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I was sitting on a bench, in a quiet place , a cemetery, but also a park where people come to walk, to jog, to breathe. Then I saw it, a pigeon flying down from a tree. It walked softly on the ground, its feathers glowing in the morning light. Black wings, white chest, purple and black neck, white tail, and feet covered with white feathers. So beautiful. I didn’t say it out loud, but in my heart I admired it. And then it looked at me. Really looked. And to my surprise, it flew to me. Landed on the bench, right next to me. Its claws held the metal tightly. It stared those red eyes moving, like it was trying to understand me from every angle. It came closer. And for a second, I felt something between us. Our eyes met and stayed. Then, quietly, it flew away. I don’t know what it was. Was it God, answering my silent thoughts? Or the universe, reminding me that we are all connected? It felt like love but not the kind we see in movies. No hands. No words. Just a moment between a human and a bird. Real. Quiet. Sacred. Maybe love is like that sometimes not between lovers, but between souls. No need for shape or name. Just presence.
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May 3, 2025
May 3, 2025 at 9:55 AM UTC
The Pigeon
I was sitting on a bench, in a quiet place , a cemetery, but also a park where people come to walk, to jog, to breathe. Then I saw it, a pigeon flying down from a tree. It walked softly on the ground, its feathers glowing in the morning light. Black wings, white chest, purple and black neck, white tail, and feet covered with white feathers. So beautiful. I didn’t say it out loud, but in my heart I admired it. And then it looked at me. Really looked. And to my surprise, it flew to me. Landed on the bench, right next to me. Its claws held the metal tightly. It stared those red eyes moving, like it was trying to understand me from every angle. It came closer. And for a second, I felt something between us. Our eyes met and stayed. Then, quietly, it flew away. I don’t know what it was. Was it God, answering my silent thoughts? Or the universe, reminding me that we are all connected? It felt like love but not the kind we see in movies. No hands. No words. Just a moment between a human and a bird. Real. Quiet. Sacred. Maybe love is like that sometimes not between lovers, but between souls. No need for shape or name. Just presence.
Muhammad_Sami_Sadiq
Written by
May 3, 2025
May 3, 2025 at 9:55 AM UTC
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