Sometimes I walk by birds and get upset when they fly away.
My dad says it’s cause I startle them, but I don’t know if that’s true.
If I see a bird up the path,
I keep my steps even and begin to think past them.
It sounds weird, but I think beyond the space where they are.
Looking past them at the bus stop,
I’ll think about why my dad was late picking me up;
If he were on time we might have made the bus,
I wouldn’t have to be walking in the cold—
I think about all those things as I step closer and closer.
The energy I’m sending out is one of planning
But not concerning the bird.
Not only do I not wish him harm,
I do not wish him anything.
I do not think of the bird at all.
That’s what I was doing today.
When it works
Walking by the bird will spring
A couple steps away from me stand
His ground — eyeing me suspiciously —
Till I walk on by.
It’s the best feeling ever:
There’s this sense of relief.
Me that he didn’t fly away,
Him, that a human doesn’t wanna hurt him.
If you’re really lucky one of his friends in the tree will
Kaw! out a sound you didn’t think possible.
Like a sound you know, but timed different.
It’s like a flute being played backwards
And the flutes made out of marbles
And caterpillar feet. It’s weird,
But it’s for you
So be grateful.
Today the bird flew away before I got to pass.
I was cold, and angry and my dad said ‘no pizza’
Which means he’ll make chicken
(He always makes chicken.)
Only one slice of bread,
(He’s not working now.)
Make me wait till we’re both
Seated before I can even take a bite—
He’s mean like that.
He doesn’t understand that’s what makes the birds fly away;
Those thoughts in my head.
If he were different,
I wouldn’t have those thoughts,
And all birds would trust me and give
Me that special sound when I walk by.