I recently had a dream where I am walking on the floor of a sea. I am neither worried, nor elated that I am walking under water. What does concern me is that there seems to be no sea life. There is no color, no fish. I am actually walking in a structure made of grey stone. It has no roof and no floor, but it does not seem to be a ruin. I continue to walk through empty chambers and hallways. It is not a large building but the stone work is of high quality.
truly the better part
of my life out-of-doors
but yesterday I heard a new sound above my head
a rustling, ruffling quietness in the spring air
and when I turned my face upward
I saw a flock of blackbirds
rounding a curve I didn’t know was there
and the sound was simply all those wings
just feathers against air, against gravity
and such a beautiful winning
the whole flock taking a long, wide turn
as if of one body and one mind.
How do they do that?
with its cruelty and fear
its apathy and exhaustion
what a puny existence that would be
but instead we live and move and have our being
here, in this curving and soaring world
so that when, every now and then,
mercy and tenderness triumph in our lives
and when, even more rarely,
toward a common good,
and can think to ourselves:
ah yes, this is how it’s meant to be.
~ Julie Cadwallader Staub