Yesterday as I was walking out of school, a robin began his spring song in the little tree in the parking lot. This is Josiah’s robin from last year. He has taped it to our living room wall, and expanded the picture onto other sheets of paper.
You walk on tiptoe,
keeping to the shadows.
Even your voice is hidden
deep in a pocket somewhere,
beneath a layer of gum wrappers,
tissues, and crumbs.
You have practiced the art
of becoming invisible,
of fading into the walls,
until you can step sideways
out of anyone’s awareness.
The trouble with many of the magical arts
is that there comes a point when you don’t know
whether you are casting the spell
or the spell is casting you.
It is time to let this one go.
Walk out of the wallpaper,
stop blurring your edges,
seek your lost voice and speak.
Speak your name into the room,
set your feet firmly on the floor,
and let the world see you.
(A list again today)
1. The robin in the tree
2. Digging a hole with a small boy to make a fire pit (though my hands really hurt today from all the shoveling and wheelbarrowing)
3. How you are beginning to let people see you
4. Drawing the line between us, which is to say–making community
5. Opening the bag of this day, to see what it holds inside. Every day a new thing, eh? What shall we make of this one?