“There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception.” ―
This morning in the portal by the lake
my heart exults. New visitors appear:
a cinnamon singer–I came ill-prepped,
dashing back to the human realm for books
and binoculars. Oh, brown thrasher, sing
our true connection. From this moment on
inform my now with highest intent: love
bypasses the television-controlled
lethargic worried minds fatigued by non
sequiturs, an incessant house sparrow’s chipping. I sit with birds, we electric
beings on the brink of discovery,
awakening again and again to
new creation always buzzing, humming
sacred unknowable unmoving light.
Featured image of a brown thrasher found here.
I used to fantasize
my family tree grew
from the nobility.
I’d say, “Off with her head,”
to seize my cousin’s power.
— Maybe this is a Scottish
Stuart thing. A child, I’d watch
with a fire, my heart
desperate to make sense
of the outright imbalance
that no one acknowledged.
And then the teenaged avalanche
of insights, someone didn’t
share and we are all
descendants of that
hoarding evil. We started
as stardust, so why do we
idolize these pretty faces
glimpsed on their expensive yachts,
their feet firmly planted
on our delicate necks?
We don’t even squirm,
lost in our visions —
perhaps even their
will gild our desires.
When will we rise
and claim our connection,
tear down the illusion
walls and awaken
of our cousins?
Inspired by: Nobility, Watch, Avalanche and Fire.