Yesterday as I walked on the beach I found myself singing a church band song from years ago, “Open Our Eyes, Lord,” which melted into another, “Open the Eyes of My Heart,” which melted into Van Morrison’s “Open the Door to Your Heart.” From the moment I started singing til I ran out of words, a flight of cliff swallows circled close and swarmed me like we were all celebrating on a different sort of dance floor. If I had stopped walking and found them circling me, it would have been just an interesting note on the day’s calendar. But these were dozens of swallows swaying and swooping, encircling, twittering, hugging me *as I walked along.* I kept looking all around me, far up and down the stretch, but the swallows were nowhere else on the beach. Like the gentlest of bees years ago at a monastery, these swallows were keeping me at the center of their helix. One swooped very close and circled so perfectly that we spun twice around together —“spin your partner”—we danced, clearly, everything else a blur—and I wished I could climb onto its deep blue and rusty back to see the world that way. I gave them a few songs from the beach. They gave me joyous news from the sky: “All shall be well.”
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Comments (1)


July 4th, 2020

11:36 am

Thank you for taking us with you to the dance. ❤

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