In an apartment in St. Paul,
a man stands in the window,
looking east. Red rays
and dawn’s rosy fingers
spread across a sky
whose message is nothing
…but possibility.
Black birds swirl in unison
as if the undulating air
were two lovers on which
they rode; up and down,
on and off… One can only see
the pure joy of instinct
as the birds obey an unseen
force—the one
that makes even God blush.
That man soothes his heart
in the knowledge the blackbirds
confer. Their story signals
something we cannot know.
There isn’t an idea that can
cause that experience; only
the inexplicable joy of the divine
instinct when the right man
and the right woman join.
Presence is everything.
Longing is something.
Absence, a sin to endure.
And here he is, standing alone.
The sun rises and says all these
things, yet he stands alone.
He thanks the sun. He thanks
the blackbirds. He dreams
of her with the saddest
joy-filled heart on Earth.
-Anthony Signorelli
Be First to Comment