Either way, I’m on the wrong side of the glass.
Looking out at the frenzy of wrens at the feeder
feathered slaves to instinct
Coffee cup warming my hands
the mammal in me stirs
A brief moment of limbic contentment
before the neocortex overthinks the day
Sipping and exhaling
my hot breath clouds the glass
I trace my initials and suddenly I’m through!
Aflutter, perched on a branch
singing my surprise at being a flock
at feeling the pulse of magnetic lines
Not yet but soon we’ll fly them south
in search of longer light
Within and without, the True North
of enlightenment beckons
The way mapped in DNA and yearning
Either way, we’re on the right side of the glass.
__________________________
Copyright Deborah A. McGlauflin, September 25, 2017. All rights reserved.
