A flock of geese trumpeted our arrival

A poem about how some birds sing for friends who have lost their song.

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I put my hands on the earth and asked her 
if it was alright for me to be here, let alone touch. 
I understand that that happened in the wrong order.
Nevertheless, she sang, in her own way,
“where else could you be?
Just treat me well, we’re not different.
We’ve both Been since exactly the same moment,
We’re both Becoming of exactly the same thing.”

Then, to the left of the dock,
a flock of geese trumpeted our arrival
Like a ribbon cut to the grand opening of hearts 
Not quite caught up to spirits and minds stuck behind
bodies catching up from Tennessee, Georgia, Idaho,
down the coast, a stone’s throw away, across the bay 
where sea lions do not eat people, Nate,
no matter how viral the videos go. 

I caught myself Om-ing while the rest sang Shalom.
Call it dharma, 
Call it holy ghost,
call it whole-making 
call it coming home.
And if I need to be a gap in language,
When some words pose threat 
more than they hold promise,
cover me.

I had Dan to the left and Hilary 
singing down the drawbridge from both sides
as if to gather me beneath Sophia’s wings or speak: 
the sun will rise, little hen. 
Till then, let it rattle. 
Tuck your chin straight in 
to the shadow,
You cannot possibly 
imagine how luminous
the dark is.

You’ll sing again.
You’ll see. 

And so when some words
turn my “on” switch to “off,”
there are human beings behind every concept, 
there are people inside of every robot we build
to try confine the Divine, and out here, 
on the edge of the inside,
where sounds are allowed 
to find new wineskins to live in,
I am softening. 

There are minds that do not think like mine
and sometimes they even set God free 
to be Ground for all of us. 

This morning, I stepped out of my room 
and onto the grass, barefoot. 
Figured I got my permission yesterday. 
I raised my hands to the sky and said “thank you,”
Meister Eckhart says that if those two words
are the only prayer you ever pray in your entire life,
they will have been enough. 

Thank you.