Earlier this year I published a book of poetry called Flight of the Starling. It felt as though I was channeling a voice of wisdom through the poem. A voice that answers with love, and responds in verse to my deep questions.
I’ve felt called keep tuning into this voice. To write my questions in a quatrain, and see what quatrains I get in response.
To my delight, this voice on the wind has continued to heed my call.
See my previous post if you’d like to hear my reading of the poem.
Please enjoy the next chapter in this little Starling’s existential adventure: Earthling, Starling.
Earthling, Starling
Act 1: The choice
So now you know, my love Your wings Are made of special Magical things Wings that find all ways to go Compile them all into a flow And then you simply ride the flow The flow will take you to and fro The flow's a guide that doesn't decide A guide like charts to track the tides A guide like nectar to a bee A guide like sunlight to a tree A guide like warmth In bitter cold A guide like wisdom Comes to the old A guide's a guide And you can decide "I think I'll override this guide" This guide's a guide Because it requires It not interfere With what you desire Deciding is key For a bird in the flow Deciding is wondering "Where should I go?" Deciding is going Then feeling the flowing And pushing or pulling When there is a knowing Deciding is knowing A tiny bit more That up is the ceiling And down is the floor Deciding is dancing From branches to branchlings And knowing them all For full understandings But what if I choose To rest on a branch And to stop my exploring As a matter of chance? What if I choose That I'm all done choosing? Does that mean I'm winning Or actually losing? What if my choice is I choose not to choose My choice is still choice A choice of my choose ... ing Your choice is a dance From branchling to branch And pauses lend focus To subsequent chances Your pauses are restful And part of your flow Your pauses are honored For consenting to know To know is to know And to never unsee To know is a burden That won't leave us be For knowing has levels And down on the ground Our knowing is just What we see all around Our knowing is part Of a big knowing thing That knows what you know But knows more than you think So, my love Your wings are breath That take you from One choice to the next No choice is wrong Just like your song Was never the same Yet yours all along There's only one you So choices you're choosing Have never been chosen So there's really no losing For the big knowing thing All choices are known But you're the musician Who blends many notes You're making choices From your point of view Which adds to the records Of what we all do "We add up to something" Said the four to the seven "You'll need some more digits!" Replied the eleven But four has a shape That's perfectly square And can't quite imagine How eleven got there Eleven just is As is four, as is seven When they work as a team They shake hands with eleven Your choices are choices Of many composed That add up to bigger Forks in the road Some forks take you far Some forks take you wide Some forks look the same So it's hard to decide It's hard to decide What is right, what is best For a little bird sheltered Cozied up in her nest A bird must fly up With wings of intention To circle the trees And decide what she needs Some birds on branches Some birds in the sky Some birds flying lower Some birds flying high The bird who flies high Sees more of the action But loses the details Of bird-tree interaction The bird in the air Is a bird on the wing Who must sometimes fly down And report what she sees And birds on the ground Hear accounts of what's found When a bird rises up Taking wing, soaring 'round Then all birds confer On each view of the scene Birds low see more ground Birds high see more green Together we know The shape of the flow Though each one of us Doesn't know where to go We know the flow Not you and not me Our knowing comes easy When each bird flies free So I can decide And my choices are mine? My choices are breathing? My choices are blind? Not blind, my love But not fully informed Your choices are part Of a big choosing horde You're part of the choice The choice needs you in it You're part of the voice We all speak to the infinite You're part of a flow Choosing where to go Your choices are yours As you fly to and fro But how do I know When my choices look grim When to jump looks like danger And if I fall I must swim? Like my mother and father Who fell to the water And swam to survive Where no bird can thrive And I must now choose On my branch up on high Where below is the earth And above is the sky Where below is the ground Which I know well enough And above is a world Made of different stuff In crisis, my love We must choose to survive For living is choosing To choose and to thrive Your wings, love, are two But remember, do you? They're part of the flow And will know what to do You're part of the flow You can feel it and know Each branch is explored By the flock as we go Now feel how the birds Are calling to you As they jump on each branch In a great soaring dance And echoes of choices Appear in your mind As your wings integrate And help you decide To the earth Or to the sky Earthling, Starling Two directions to fly Feel the choice Inside your bones And feel the path Back to your home Earthling, Starling Ground and sky Two ways to go Two ways to fly