A bit of Whimsy

 Arrive 

The night rain continued through the morning

Southern California sky.

As I was waiting at a light, looked up

Birds in V formation, flying inland east

Away from the coast.

What did they know that I did not?

Inland they flew over green hills.

They caught my curiosity.

The light changed, I turned toward shore.

Again, I see.

Birds take flight in synchrony,

In military form,

following a captain.

Through skies so blue, a moment of loft.

As if a flight controller said,

Runway two, black birds,

you are cleared for takeoff.

A moment’s lift, they sail away.

Like soldier planes in perfect form

Instinct guides the birds

through wind, the cold, the weather.

When to take off, when to dive,

to rest, and when to nest.

Man with all his higher knowledge,

can never do it best,

What’s inherent in a simple bird

trumps what man conspires.   

Instinct has no quest.

If only man could rival

the acuity of the simple bird.

If instinct was the norm,

and man lived without a reasoning brain,

“Would I be sitting, Wondering?”

Such a simple thing,

these birds in V formation.

We so often search for higher meaning

and often lose our way

When you are lost,

use instinct, close the book.

Take a breath, find your loft,

you have arrived

without  

reason.

D. Fleming