“The price of a sense of an individual identity is a sense of separation from others and nature.” ~ Michael Pollan, How To Change Your Mind
I pay the fee, ask for
a discount when I step outside
mindfully, receptive to comments
from the watchful beings
in the tallest branches. How is it
that I, who profess to love
communication, can only manage,
“ah, the birds are aware of my journey”?
When can I speak bird?
And I’m not asking yet for hummingbird
love trills or goldfinch songbooks,
just a simple, “Lookout, everybody!”
that ripples through the other sentient
beings. My footsteps vibrating to the brains
buried in soil, my scent wafting
to the cautious. If I reduce time spent —
another price — online and in cars,
can I generate enough presence
to join in this vivid cacophony,
combining like droplets of water
in a joyful celebration of life?
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