An Ever-Flowing Stream

In the early May morning on the back porch the birds and breeze testify. 

Listen. See. 

The world gnashes teeth over the economic disaster upon us. Corona is infecting everything. The tumblers of bankruptcy are clicking into place, one after another. The stock market rises on hopes of reopening the economy. The stock market falls on fears of reopening the economy. 

Listen. See. 

The politicians argue over guilt and shame. Men who will never listen to anyone with a different perspective; men who refuse to see the inconvenient; men who, like frightened children, stomp about demanding everyone’s attention; these men wield power like Neanderthal clubs. And the china is crashing to the floor. 

Listen. See. 

The birds are speaking the truth. They know. They sing and fly, truly free. Free to be birds. The rustling leaves dance in winds of reality. Leaves darkening from new spring clothes into emerald coats of absorbed sunray reality. They know. They silently, certainly follow the plan. Free to be leaves. 

Listen. See. 

We humans build houses that cost decades of earnings. We air condition the containers of our lives. Good for us— well done. Why not be comfortable? 

But what do we know? Are we listening? Watching?

The porch is the threshold of reality. Nature may be beaten down, polluted, plundered, abused. But the crowning virus will work its silent destruction. The seas will rise. The birds will sing, and the leaves will rustle. 

Listen. See. 

We are not masters of earth, but temporary travelers on the planet — like commuters on public transport. Will we see it? Life isn’t in the subways of our own construction, in the bowels of the earth where no birds sing or leaves dance. There we can travel for a bit. There we can think we are living reality. The stock market will rise and fall, politicians will brag and protest. The silent unseen virus will rage. And the oceans will rise. 

Listen. See. 

On the back porch you find reality. The gift of a cawing grackle. The glimpse of squirrels chasing. And there you can feel the breeze. A banquet of reality. Unstoppable reality. That gives all, claims all, receives all, renews all.