Starlings at the Soccer Fields

They were a flock, and when they flew off

They flew off in unison,

Tilting together in response to promptings

Of a guidance system

Emanating from the center of the earth, and

Responding, no doubt, to evolved promptings

Wired inside their tiny brains.

The soccer fields had been mowed.

The flock fed upon the grassy fields, and

Tilting together again, flew without effort

But with great beauty

To rest atop the soccer goal,

Staying there a moment as if to catch their breath,

Then wheeling off, tilting together,

To land upon the fields and feed again.

The starlings’ feeding,

Their tilting fits of flight,

Their occupation of my morning—

Simultaneously lifted me up and

Led me to drill deeper into my very self.

--July 27, 2013