The Way That Bird Flew (Poem)

The way that bird flew
From the tree to the wire
Made me wonder
What we’ve lost, with grace, with ease,
With light footsteps, gallops,
The most silent hops from here to there

As if to say “hello”
In the universal language of the leap

As if everyone were watching
When I saw the trees that certain way,
Like how could anyone in all of eternity not feel it with me?

And if a moment expands enough,
Even in just my own eyes,
Can it caress every bird wing out there?

The sick, the escaping,

The last ditch effort,
I’ll try anything to get out of this misery?

What about the way that bird flew
From the tree to the wire
Ready to start its evening
Of flights and landings,

Ready to beat the wind,
Caressing the air with its movement
At the same time.

At the same time as I wonder
About you and everyone

And suffering and what it means
And what length we’ll got o escape it, what narrow
Bridges we’ll endeavor to cross over,
Under pouring rain
In our ponchos and galoshes,

Without the grace of a bluebird’s leap,
But with something else.

Something reserved for the desperate measure,
Something that is only given to us in our final hour of misery
And only lasts that long
Before cracking in half,
Breaking in 2,
So we can live amongst the leapers, ambivalently

But seeing the beauty in what’s been there all along
Once again.

The way that bird flew
From the tree to the wire
Reminded me of everything I’d forgotten
That the tree to the wire holds onto,
Day in, day out,

The way that bird flew.

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