Ripped from the Nest

Yes, we are the same person, he and I and you and I and all of us together making complete sense to each other but rolling around bumping into other people and smiling. I was all alone by the water this afternoon, the sun so warm on my naked back, when I saw a bird working to balance on the delicate rim of a scrolled-iron chair. The breeze was stronger than we both expected, and he teetered back and forth until he had to pull his tail into the effort, all of him tipping to and fro to reach that feeling, that unworded all-knowing experience. How like that bird I am this summer; as much myself as ever, but windblown and teetering to find my balance.