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For Those Who Do Not Understand
like birds on a new land
they have doubts whether to hop in or not
but the wings are tired
the claws are numb
and there is no choice
except to rub their feathers
against the cold wind
blink to reconsider
that after all
there is no other shadow of a land to see
and out there is the deeper horizon
gray then black then
empty
one bird decides to dive
fall on the water
and then
catch the first fish
of course the rest follow
and then
the community begins
to take shape
like any body like any ant
or sand
or mound of earth
or the first birth of the
whirl and the
twirl
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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