what if our enchantment
with the fluent flock
isn’t just our wonder at their intimacy in flight
but recognition?
as you turn toward the distant light
we all turn with you,
ever so slightly
when you bow toward the earth
and clench your heart in grief
we all bow with you
holding tight to each other
until the clot releases
exhaling
slowly,
one
by
one,
slipping low along the horizon
rising softly
into one weightless cloud of possibility
before dissolving
into the hazy,
boundless
blue
Words & video by Sam Sokyo.
Murmuration by Western Sandpipers.
✻
