Winter is for the Birds

One way I reflect on the past year is to go back through my journals. This used to be an arduous process because of the mass volume of them. (I don't know that we use the word "volume" to talk about typed journals though!)

As I worked my way through March, I rediscovered this poem that I loved. It spoke to me again today. Its title is Funny. The poet is Anna Kamienska. I know that I posted it on here previously during the Easter season.

What's it like to be a human 
the bird asked

I myself don't know
it's being held prisoner by your skin 
while reaching infinity 
being a captive of your scrap of time 
while touching eternity 
being hopelessly uncertain 
and helplessly hopeful
being a needle of frost 
and a handful of heat 
breathing in the air 
and choking wordlessly 
it's being on fire 
with a nest made of ashes 
eating bread 
while filling up on hunger
it's dying without love 
it's loving through death

That's funny said the bird
and flew effortlessly up into the air

For the past few weeks I have taken up a new task of helping to feed the animals - throwing out rotten apples for the deer and replacing suet for the birds. One gift of the novitiate has been extra time to watch the animals outside. The birds, too, received a gift - a Christmas gift!

Let us walk in the holy presence.

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