To Birds Gone Bye

[Last week I said goodbye to the hundreds of thousands of Robins and other birds that had migrated to the small forest behind our complex. For three months their sheer numbers and artistry in the sky have entranced me. Then all of a sudden, they were gone. I knew it was coming, but dreaded it. I had to mourn the loss of this unique display of beauty, one that we’ve never seen before. Every morning about thirty minutes before sunrise they would take off in massive rivers piercing the dawning sky, a process that would take ten minutes because of their sheer numbers. Every sunset they would return, flooding the trees with their song and stories. As soon as the sun was set, they had all nested in the trees further back, still making noise but no longer seen.

It’s amazing how I can hear the unique individual bird calls now that were drowned out by the Robins. I am learning to see God not just in the massive flocks but once again in the single bird; not just in the big and impressive but in the simple, quiet presence of one or two things. Every day this week the Lord has sent Rabbits to accompany me on my walks, a scampering reminder of the tenderness caring for our world.

Anyway, I decided to write a goodbye poem to the birds. Until next time, compadres.]

The sky seems

so empty

so quiet

vacant

I’ve grown

accustomed

to the sounds

to the sights

of thousands upon thousands

suffusion

overflowing artistry

weaving skillfully

slicing through

God’s atmosphere

Suddenly,

gone.

silence.

loss.

But this is the migratory way,

the turning of the seasons

from emptiness to fullness

and back again

and again

and again.