In first light
for birds, they,
so snug-up to their nature,
too real for the human amnesiac who
cannot hold his own but in
patches and pauses. So, I ask the silence for a
birdsome aptitude, a way of mind to
occupy that gaze into the dawn.
Near and far, through a singing into me, I hear:
“would you be as a bird? Then
like the bird
bother not to draw the fine line that
splits the atom of origins,
to somehow separate the matter of the soul
from where it was conceived,
for our source sets like the sun
on unity’s horizon. Like the bird,
do not worry to configure what is
required by this one life that asks for
nothing more than faith.
Yield, like the bird,
mystified with being
awakened but without certitude, and as a human,
know the reverse causes
great harm to children and the world.
The next step is always taken in not knowing how.
That is why we call it revelation.
And, like the bird, remember
none of this was your idea.”
So on I go, being one creature
to face the breaking of the day
arrayed with patches and
pauses, with many brought on
by the company of birds.