The Unseen Hand Of God
/Clunking While Geese Are Soaring
A cold evening spilled out across the darkening land as I dutifully dragged myself along in my requisite exercise-jog.
I was distracted from my discomfort when I spied a flock of Canadian geese in an open field. Finished with their eventide grazing, they lifted en masse into a pale wintery sky.
Strong wings beat up and down as they rose higher and higher. The strokes of their wings were audible as their feathers pushed against the cold night air. They gathered together across the icy blue expanse and eventually became a single line.
One goose dropped lower, slowed down a bit and then, rose back up into the line to take its place behind another.
Who would know why?
Held By The Unseen Hand Of God
My heart ached as I watched their flight. Joy and pain tumbled within me.
It looked like so much work to flap those wings over and over to keep them skimming across the wide expanse of atmosphere. Nothing else holding them up except, perhaps, the unseen hand of God.
From my awkward and earthbound state, I was reminded how brutish and dull I am in comparison to their lightness of being.
Watching their skyward journey, I held them in my heart as they traveled their sky-path.
An Overgrown, Wild Place
The honking call from their white-slashed throats resonated to an overgrown, wild place tucked inside my heart.
Like my fellow humans across the centuries, I found myself wishing that I could fly, free of metal or mechanics.
With all our technology, there is nothing we do that comes close to their level of mastery, grace, and elevated simplicity.
