I am Here
"Do you know why birds sing just before dawn? Scientists believe it's to tell their mates that they made it through the night, as a way of saying, "I'm still here." Maybe that's why we sing, too, why we create art—as a way of saying, "I made it. I'm still here."
– Jeff Goins
He takes to his branch each morning, lingers there
Finds his gentle, yet firm grip on the wood with his small claws
Steady, he welcomes the fresh air
The sun on his strong beak
The orange light peaking through the high buildings
He closes his eyes
Takes in the soft breeze on his black feathers
Enjoys the cool wind
Quietens down — steady
“I am here” he announces, leaning into the wind
In the early light, before the onslaught of cars,
The oncoming traffic that struggles below on the street
There is this gentle dance
Notes whispered into the day
“I am here”
Moving to a certain place on the branch
He smooths down his feathers
Makes himself presentable
Then opens up his wings to the air
Flying upwards in the blue sky
He takes some early morning dips and dives,
Curving first one way, then the other
his song wakes up a few more birds, who echo his chorus
They fly close, accompanying him
with their gentle chorus moving out into the day
A Small Map of the Stars
Dedicated to the memory and vision of Pius "Mau" Piailug
He sits on the beach, holds one earth stone in his palm,
turns it over a few times
finds a true position for it on the sand.
he digs it in, naming the stone aloud,
Machemelito — the Southern Cross.
slowly more stones follow, forming one complete circle in front of him
they reflect the positions of the stars that rise in the evening.
although old, Mau moves with purpose – with sea vision
he is stocky and muscular, certain of what he is doing.
this small, robust man from the island of Satawal, Micronesia
can sail without equipment.
with steady, open eyes, the children observe him.
They are still, careful to absorb his fingers’ motions on the hot open sand,
as he creates one unifying pattern.
Then he moves his hands together, angled down, showing
how the winds travel near the water
Here is patience, the connection of humans to sea, to sun, to birds, to fish.
slowness,
studying the different speeds of the wind
Mau will guide them until they learn how to sail on their own
without sextant or compass
Until they too know their direction home.
Pius "Mau" Piailug was the youngest of six traditional navigators that some young Micronesians contacted in the seventies. He was from the island of Satawal and knew how to navigate without a compass or any modern equipment from one island to another, perhaps a hundred miles away across the open sea.
An Adventurer
This bird in flight
Rises in the sky
Close to the moon
Beak out firm
This his flight path
As his wings propel him
His eyes watch ahead
As his body leans into the wind
This his grace dance
Wings outstretched
Sleek and wide
His black feathers streaming
In the cold night air
The brisk wind ruffles over him
Yet he moves a fine arrow in air
White stones fall against black sky
Harshness rains down
Yet his sleek body soars
Flying direct - straight ahead
The darkness surrounds him
But he persists, remains on his journey
As the white moon sifts through the clouds
This bird flies past small houses
Their owners deep asleep within
Past the river’s secret knowing
Her wind sailing
Past the church steeple
The clean white roof in the small, slow town
The stones that stand steady by the river
Waiting on the side of the evergreen mountain
This bird rides through the hard hail, undeterred
An Adventurer