Impenitent

There’s this bird who sings a song that speaks to me so completely I would swear he sings for no other.

He circles above me through countless seasons, taking me in with a surreptitious blatancy, cawing, even dive-bombing, until I give his song a listen.

He longs for a nest I wonder if he’ll ever be brave enough to build. While he’s never far from me, he rarely gets close.  Yet in unexpected, evanescent moments I find him perched on my shoulder singing so sweetly, so intentionally, so honestly, so unapologetically, solely for me.

And as quickly as he lands, he flies away again, leaving me to stand fallow in his wake, wanting more.

I’m seeking the grace to revel in every note this beautiful bird is capable of trilling for me however fleeting, the willpower to leave this birdfeeder bare, and the patience to listen for the one who knows the nest builds itself when you find the courage to sustain an endless serenade.

I discovered prayer flags in Cloth, Paper, Scissors magazine two years ago.  Dating back thousands of years to India, an artist creates a flag, hanging it outdoors for a period of time.  As the flag weathers, unravels and fades, its sentiment is spread to all touched by the wind.  The symbolism moves me, and so I create my own in hopes a zephyr will bring back to me all that I am seeking.