NINE SURPRISING THINGS WORTH MORE THAN THIS SHIMMERING METAL*

 

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The way a hummingbird feels,
weightless, still, suspended,
when you rescue it from the windowsill, then
set it free on the balcony : it darts off in relief,
having thought, for brief moments, that all was lost.

The way, in the midst of hateful rhetoric
and marches of protest, an African American rescues
a white policeman who is being beaten,
because our hearts are all human; 
under our perceived differences,
there is no "other". Only "us."

The way this virus is showing us
our humanity, our intense vulnerability,
the transcience of life, the dearness of
those we love. And it is showing us
the heroism of front line workers, especially
health care workers, putting their lives
on the line to save ours. The best way we can help
is to wear a mask and stay home.

The way that, even when my head aches from
the load I am carrying, I can look down
through the forest, watch the curled lip
of a winter wave breaking in storm,
and feel restored.

The way the stellar jay on my balcony
learned to yodel, to tell me when
I need to put out more food. How he once
flew through my open door into my kitchen,
turned around and flew back out,
checking out my birdcage, while he
flies the whole wide world.

The way a dog's heart is incapable of deceit,
and how he will be loyal to even the sternest master,
a devotion many do not deserve,
a fact which breaks my heart.

The way the world stands on the lip
of the apocalypse. Which path
will we choose? Healing, restoration,
working together, taking the strong steps
we need to take? Or continued division
and lunacy: facing climate collapse and 
a rampant virus, wasting energy on hatred
that needs to be spent on saving our own lives.
If there is a future generation, imagine
how astonished they will be at 
the way we are living now - hating 
our fellow citizens, burying the American dream,
following a madman like lemmings
over the cliff of denial.

They say, if you climb the
Empire State Building after dark,
during the time of bird migrations
along the eastern seaboard,
first you will catch your breath
at the beautiful lights. Then,
once your eyes adjust,
you will see birds, small and large,
fly past, making their way south.
Some will be caught in the lights and 
will lose their migratory path,
circling in distress, losing energy.
Knowing this, certain buildings turn off
all the lights at intervals,
so birds can find their way.
If we are capable of this much thoughtfulness,
why not extend it to all
our fellow beings?

The life cycle of the smallest bird,
the great humpbacks, the tiny bee,
are magical mysteries that lift the heart,
worth more than all the money
being made on Wall Street.
Oh, the beautiful wonder of it all!

*inspired by the poem "Nine Surprising Things Worth More Than This Shimmering Metal" by Hannah Morgan. For Wild Writing with Laurie Wagner.