Saturday, July 2, 2011


Have you heard the Himalayan legend of the birds born in the air, that live completely a life in the sky? If not, here is a poem by Jennifer K. Sweeney, titled In Flight.   A kind of freedom, a kind of exile.

 I held this image in my head all winter.  Is this strange?  A young girl in a pretty frock holding a bird cage.  Maybe it was a dream to begin with.  Something to do with a letting go. Opening the bird cage, setting things free. A soaring of the soul. When I see an empty bird cage I immediately think of a bird in flight.

I don't know what any of this means.  I don't want to know.  I only know how difficult it is to stay in flight and trick people into believing that you're a human being prone to gravity.

Have you heard the Innocence Mission?  I've been listening to them this morning, thinking of empty bird cages, the enormous summer, green grass, gentle flight, escape.

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