Like Morning Feet
As restlessness seeks devotion,
a community of small birds
chirp, chirp, chirps
the morning news.
What can be so cheerful
and exciting this early?
And how can what’s happening
out there on that tree
also be happening here,
inside these feet?
Feet, it turns out, are not merely
flexible structures of bones and joints,
muscles and soft tissue
used to perform activities
like walking and running and jumping;
they are also gathering places
for the sweet songs of morning birds
awakening us to what’s possible when we say “yes.”
Say yes so that later, when you look over
at what you once imagined were simply shadows
cast by a large pepper tree
to see two elemental beings—one a dragon
and the other a kind of half-warthog-looking creature—talking,
you will not suspect madness,
for you will know that
what you are seeing is really there.
Oh, but don’t listen in
on their conversation then
if you’re only trying to figure out
why they are there.
Once you’ve been caught
eavesdropping in this manner
all the hidden-from-plain-view ones
will quickly disappear from sight,
becoming as shadows once more,
and no amount of squinting or straining,
pouting or pleading
will bring them back.
No, as long as the happening is over there
and you’ve not been invited into the conversation,
what the dragon and the half-warthog are saying
is really none of your business.
Show up anyway.
And keep saying yes
while learning to wait, patiently,
like morning feet do
without ever expecting to hear anything.
It won’t be long
before you earn their trust,
before feet birds
begin to chirp with excitement,
and otherwise unseen beings
step from the shadows to reveal themselves
while asking your name.