I am thinking about a mythological bird.
Like the image from a children’s book, the “firebird” with the multicolored feathers. Does that really make sense? Or maybe the bird is bejeweled, twinkling under starlight and dazzling in the sun. It has an untold wisdom and emits no sound that is not musical and beautiful.
What is this bird doing? The stories never seem to give it a purpose. It merely exists, a wondrous creature with no reason for being.
Perhaps somewhere there is a garden, a forest, an unending stretch of air full of these mythical birds.
Perhaps there are none. Or just one – and it might live eternally, or over and over again, or… for just one brief moment.