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.

 

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.