Marya Mann : Blog : Ecstatic Birds Want To Know

Ecstatic Birds Want to Know

Aloha, Noble Friend!

Here’s a poem I wrote about the sadness many of us may feel over the pandemic. Yes, there are problems and disagreements over what to do. Yes, there is loss and fear. But here’s the BIG YES: there is transformation. We are the movement that fills changing dynamics with new possibilities.

Make light of it all, know what you believe, and why, and for the love of our children and elders, please wear a veil. I don’t call them masks. That word puts us into reacting against our associations with most masks — disguises, cloaks, a death mask, gas mask, and surgical mask. There’s no outstanding good associated with the word mask that I can think of.

So, let’s associate the protective gear with a veiled divinity, a hero of the universe, or trust and kindness incarnate. A masked and masterful healer,

Love, Marya

The poem:

Ecstatic Birds Want to Know

Let the soul do what it does best.
Levitate you. Unleash your broken self
Into the sky. Fly.

If you walk along the Spirit path to your garden,
The old heavy cloak falls away.
You feel light, warmth, freedom.
The breath body rises up,
As the night rainbow reaches down.
Hidden folk appear from under leaves.
Ecstatic birds sing of your arrival.
You are so happy a virtual altar appears
With scents of rice, incense, plumeria.
A moment’s peace.

Then you start to cry. A songbird lands on your shoulder.
“Why are you sad?”
“Who isn’t sad about the state of the world? We’re in the middle of a pandemic, no one can go anyplace, or even hug, racial tension is on fire, with madmen stoking the flames, schools aren’t safe for children….”
“Just stop.”
“Don’t you want to hear how bad it is?”
“No. Don’t bring that here,” says your little birdie.
“Let your Spirit be strong.
Be grateful for the strange quest that brought you here.”

You relax a little. Guardian spirits come out of trees.
Flowers bloom with gods and goddesses.
A bubble of hope rises, hopeless rises too, and wins.
You push them both down. “I wish I’d done better.
How did we let things get so bad?”
“Let your heart be open like Jesus,” the songbird sings.
“Look how great this strange quest really is,
The awkward struggle, as matter dissolves in the Ocean.
Particles glow as they melt, and new stars are born.
In the light of our candle flame,
Bliss is one vast timeless motion.
It has no name.”

From the tiny rice offerings,
The round moon in a purple sky,
A fluorescence in the grass,
The no-conflict space, bliss –
You know this is the dreaming.

What we make of the world in this light
Remakes it everywhere.
Sadness and grief melt in a luminous whirlpool.
Gratitude grows from its banks.
Gemstones gather to sip tea.
Caterpillars dance and moths give kisses for free.
Wish-fulfilling trees flourish everywhere.

You look at your hands, glowing like the Earth and Sky,
And ask the little bird, “Why was I so sad?”

Realized by Marya
8-3-2020