I hope you are enjoying this Memorial Day.  As is the case with so many things during this period, I’ve never experienced a Memorial Day quite like this one.  It’s not entirely unlike when a loved one dies and initially those who remain experience special occasions and holidays differently.. a litany of firsts.  Cookouts, fireworks, the treat to have a long weekend at home…most will need to wait for next year.  However, the spirit of the holiday, the remembrance of those who have gone before us (especially those who gave their lives for our safety) shines on like the sun’s warmth felt on this late spring day.

Turning our attention to today’s poem, I love that it celebrates the perfection of birds’ flight.  I appreciate how the author Li-Young clarifies that the balance of birds can in ways exceeds our own.  Insults to fellow humans such as being a ‘bird brain’ or being ‘flighty’ insinuate the frailty of our winged friends.  Lee unapologetically clarifies that we are the nervous ones that require honing of our own gentility so as to gain the trust of such fair and grace-filled members of Creation.

A morning stroll against a backdrop of melodic birdsong makes me a believer!

Love and hopes for amazing bird sightings.
Lori

Praise Them

The birds don't alter space.
They reveal it. The sky
never fills with any
leftover flying. They leave
nothing to trace. It is our own
astonishment collects
in chill air. Be glad.
They equal their due
moment never begging,
and enter ours
without parting day. See
how three birds in a winter tree
make the tree barer.
Two fly away, and new rooms
open in December.
Give up what you guessed
about a whirring heart, the little
beaks and claws, their constant hunger.
We're the nervous ones.
If even one of our violent number
could be gentle
long enough that one of them
found it safe inside
our finally untroubled and untroubling gaze,
who wouldn't hear
what singing completes us?
 
~ Li-Young Lee ~