Today stretched out an extra hour
Yet darkness came too soon.
I prayed; I hurt; I prayed again
When white swan appeared in flight.
What sign is this? What omen pierces me awake?
I thought of Meister Eckhart—“The greater the nudity,
The greater the union,” he preached to women.
The church waited until his death,
Then clubbed, burned and slaughtered
Those whose wings had lifted them in flight.
Late at night, I hoped my dreams
Would bring a greater light— always looking for a sign,
Passion pouring in and in and in until
Bed and room enlarged to find some deeper union
Miles within where darkness flies upon its wings.
I am never alone, that much I know.
But there are those times I ask—
“Am I also loved?” I cannot help but wonder.
In darkness, do I find only emptiness within the void?
In blindness, have I faith enough to see angelic wings?
In every email I send— a quote from Dostoyevsky,
“All is an Ocean. All flows and connects so powerfully
that if, in this life, you manage to become more gracious
by even a drop, it is better for every bird, child and animal
your life touches than you will ever know….”
Start praying to birds in an ecstasy!
Cherish this ecstasy, however senseless it may seem to people.”
Each day I search upon the lake for swans or geese or ducks,
Their heads bowing as do Buddhist monks in gratitude.
In times of desolation, I thank the world for love transpierced.
I offer thanks to birds and to you, dear reader,
For I trust you also long to see white wings take flight,
Search for signs in day or night, fly upon late hour,
Compelled by need or desire for ecstasy.
What greater holy icon can we claim or hope to find?
Even a single moment in a lifetime may suffice.