Day 188 and 189
Once we found a wood thrush
Lying on the side of the trail,
her breath came quickly, in gasps,
her glittering black eyes shone at us like stars.
We thought she was injured, and hoped her wing would mend.
We nestled her into a small shoe box and decided to carry her home.
But she was weak,
and when we left her alone in the cool dark of our home,
she passed away,
life slipping from delicate limbs
I loved her, and love her still,
with a fierceness that takes my breath away,
the same way I love all the wild ones,
my own son, and
all the wild things.
There are midwives,
Bringing life into the world in all its’ wailing, watery glory.
And then there are midwives,
keeping company, and holding space,
while spirits slip away.
We are midwives,
the whales, and the gorillas, and the bison, and the Rhinos, and the bees, and the monarchs,
and so many others
teeter on the brink.
We are surrounded by our fallen comrades
shaken, and shell shocked,
as their soft bodies litter the floor.
All wings, and jaw bones, and backbones, and feathers, and fur.
Let us hold them in our outstretched hands
We are a million midwives
waiting in between.
May we pray for safe passage,
Thank you for listening,