I am the one
Who took your hand
When you offered it to me.
I am the pledge of emptiness
That turned around.
Even the trees smiled.
Always I was the bird
That flew off through the branches.
I am the cat
Under its tongue
I invited your yesterday to open your arms with me to offer our hands to all of life. Well, of course this means to offer our hand to all of death. I keep forgetting this, and Mary keeps reminding me.
I have a plan to start offering the chickadees and nuthatches seeds from my hand so that I could touch their beauty. I imagine myself holding my hands up to the sky so that love may alight in my soul. Then another voice says, you do that, and the tame birds will come to harm at someone else’s hands. Your desire will kill them.
I am not saying that I will go ahead with this project – I want to study the possible harm that might come. I tell you this more as a metaphor for the struggle. How much time do we spend studying our actions and in the meantime the bird flies off to sing somewhere else?
Harm is the price of doing business in this world. It’s not a nice taste in my mouth these feathers of my beloved.
What do you taste this morning?