October 1, 2020
By Gary Lindorff
When we are little, animals trust us, come closer and are more responsive. As we mature and we think we are so superior to them they keep their distance. When we are older they begin to trust us again.
This is a poem about walking behind a bird
The bird was walking mostly
It would only stop to look back at me
It seemed to want me to follow
I think that is why it didn't fly
I don't know much about birds
This bird was brown in the shade green in the sun
At first I thought this would make a good story
But then it got old and a little weird
I wanted it to fly
I even walked faster to try to spook it
But it just stopped and looked at me
It seemed to say stop being a jerk
It kept walking until the trail came to the road
It walked to where my car was parked
I let it in and it sat on the dashboard
I started the car and drove home
Gary Lindorff is a poet, writer, blogger and author of several books, the latest: 13 Seeds: Health, Karma and Initiation. Over the last few years he has begun calling himself an activist poet, channeling his activism through poetic voice. He also writes with other voices in other poetic styles: ecstatic, experimental and performance.
He is a practicing Transformational Counselor (with a strong, seasoned Jungian background) and a shamanic practitioner. His shamanic work is continually deepening his partnership with the land. This work can assume many forms, solo and communal, among them: prayer, vision questing, ritual sweating, and sharing stories by the fire.