things that fly

When I went to bed last night, gratitude for things that fly came to mind. I dismissed it as not being important enough and I decided to wait til morning. But it came back again and so be it.

My first thought was the things that make sounds in my yard, they all fly. Hawks, crows, wrens, cicadas. Amazing how loud and shrill the cicadas have been this year. The hawks too, screeching in the woods and those strange crows that sometimes sound like tin cans with dried peas being dropped in them. They fill the yard with life these high flyers, they keep us company.

One day, I found a gorgeous hawk perched on our storage shed. I eased my way up to him and he just stared. His left wing hung at a strange angle and I just knew it was broken. He managed to hop up to a lower tree branch but then lost his grip and fell on his back to the ground.A terrible thing to witness. I spent the next two hours trying to find some rescue organization to come and get him, to no avail. When I went out again, he was gone. He must have recovered. I swear he comes back now and then for a visit, knowing I wanted to help him. Maybe I am imagining that.

Birds are meant to fly and not hop .Things out of order.The day after 9-11 when no planes flew,. there were strange empty skies.Which brings me to prayer. Where does a prayer go? Does a prayer leave my mind and fly up to the Great Mind? Where does it go? And now to a story that relates to 9-11 and prayer and gratitude.

When I was 13 years old, I fell for the boy across the street who was 15 .Fell hard and for years,  he was my ideal male. Both being socially inept, we were just good friends. Much later, I recalled a prayer I had offered : "Lord, let him be in my life and love me." An offered and then, for many years, forgotten prayer. In 1984, we met again for an evening with family and then years went by. The day after 9-11, I saw his name in the comments section of an article.We connected again for 16 years by e-mail as dear friends and in the midst of this I remembered the prayer. Yes, he was in my life (sort of) and he loved me (in a way.) We talked about important things, like world events and religion. He was away from the Church the whole time, but was prayerful. Two years ago, he passed after surgery, but not before he requested a priest visit. Wherever he is now, it is the place where our prayers go when they fly.

"Gratitude is not a mere word, it is not a mere concept. It is the living breath of your real existence on earth. "Sri Chinmot