A Swan A Dozen


I feel like birds are the ascended humans.
They’ve evolved beyond the land and are no longer bounded by two dimensional traveling.

But like us humans, they migrate from place to place, country to country.
I can relate, I understand the exhilarating freedom of going wherever the wind takes me.

And like us humans, they’re searching too.
But instead of money, more or meaning, they’re searching for food.

And birds fly together, die together, bad birds for life.
They roll in their V shaped vehicles, posses as one.
I’d like to say I carpool, but I don’t.

There’s no surprise a swan’s a dancer,
soaring limitlessly with grace and effortlessly still.

Bird and I, you’re a dancer and I a yogi,
we’re not that much different are we?

When I spread arms wide open to allow
for the wind of Grace to carry me through,
there’s an effortlessness to stillness.
Rather than minding matter always moving,
stillness grounds me in place to take me around the world and back.



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