yesterday i rode my bike to a spring and filled a plastic jug full of its water

i never cared much
for birds.
which isn’t to say
i did not care
for them,
about them,
just that
i did not need
to know their names.

their migratory patterns,
a happy mystery
to me. me,
in my ignorance,
unaware of
what i was
unaware of.

now i find
myself wanting
to look at birds
more closely.
now i find
that i might want
to look at birds with
you, too.

i don’t want to
talk about the birds
we see, don’t want
to catalogue them or
learn more about them,
i just want to
look at them.
with you.

it seems it might be
nice to share this
with you, something
outside of us,
that we both can agree
is there.
we don’t need to
say anything about it,
don’t need to say,
“I agree,
there is a bird”.
we can look at it,
watch it land
where it lands,
and go
where it asks the wind
to take it.
for now i will
work up to this
shared watching
of birds,
and I will look
at birds
does the bird
land where it chooses,
or does it land
where the wind provides
it a landing?

there is a bridge
that stretches across
an ocean channel,
in a north Pacific archipelago.
when I cross the bridge,
i like to look at my
tiny life, down below me.
up there on the bridge,
even though it’s only
a few feet above my life,
it gives me vantage to see
my life tiny.

the wind is
less impeded
up there
on the bridge,
i can feel it
without restraint.
on the bridge,
my tiny life
down below me,
i can know more
assuredly that i
do not belong here.
that in order for there to be
a belonging,
there must first be
an I.
and that has been left
down below,
down there with my
tiny life.

up here
in the unhindered wind,
such small things
such as
Belonging and
they need not
get in the way
of being

my god is
the god of
creative liberties;
my god allows
me to believe
that i both
what i am
and always am

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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