Choosing to ground themselves
When they could fly
When they could float on the water
When they could hide in the trees
Why do they huddle among the humans
Like we have anything of value to offer them
But they will stay there
Soaking in the warmth of the sun
Until a human scares them away
Because that is what we do
© Ruby Neumann
(video is a recitation of the poem)
Poet's Note:
Written August 13, 2020. On a sunny afternoon at Pigeon Lake (45 minute drive from my house) .
I took a drive to the lake and sat on the dock for a while, I journaled a bit and ended my journal entry off with this poem. I was watching the gulls gathering on the docks and on the boats. The very birds I was envious of at the beginning of my journal entry.
"I am envying the birds, the gulls that have wings, that have buoyancy amid the wavy surface…"
These were the birds "huddled among the humans" and their contraptions.
I asked the question, but had no answer.
I came home and thought a bit. I have entitled it "Colony of Shame". Colony is the collective term for gulls and the picture I have of being grounded is Shame. Shame grounds me and keeps me from freedom, from flying, from floating on the water. Shame keeps me surrounded by human creations and away from the Divine expression of beauty.
When I wrote this, I didn't understand what I was seeing, except a colony of gulls pooping all over the boats and docks. But I was envious of them. Fear will make them fly again. Why is that? Fear of what, the elements that belong in that place. It would seem that the gulls are out of place, encroaching on human territory. They must feel safe. But maybe it is right to fear where they have landed. It is not their safe place.
