The journey of a gentleman

A gliding feather diving down over misery and merriness. It’s twisted hairs, dancing with the wind, rolling in the high skies, swooped by planes grabbed by birds.
At lower grounds, the feather dodging trees, over and under branches, swaying up and down, through leaves and buildings, hoping that the wind would never calm down and let the feather’s flight finish; but everything has an end.
Even lower, the feather is now skimming the ground, looking for a way to go up, luckily it’s not the end, since a geyser was up ahead, the feather sprung up in the air, however making it soaking wet and therefore heavier:gliding down, even faster than before and the wind would not be able to help it.
It was close to the end of the feather’s journey, going down without a frown, the feather finally landed against the moisty dirt.
However where one journey ends another one begins. The same bird would loose it’s feathers once again and tackle on a new journey and then a new one and again… and again, until the world ends (or until birds are no more, if not until birds loose they’re feathers).