That when you are alone,
And careening and bouncing near the edges,
Sliding on ice towards the hard stop,
Then. - Even the birds are your friends.
The little ones I mean.
The chirping brown sparrows,
Also, the dopey dragonflys,
And the flirtful and purposeful bees,
Of course, the bumbly, and big furry ones, too.
They become your everything.
Seeming divine to you,
You wonder how to worship them,
Begging for the solace of their quick glance,
Or accidental pause.
But, it is only in their indifference,
That they offer comfort.
It is then that you remember that you are nothing.
Jan and Feb 2011