Among the trees lush canopy, the Baltimore Oriole, flame orange and black, tilts down from a slender branch, like a lantern that shows the way. I watch him peek and poke methodically under shoots of leaves to feed on beetles and wasps.
He looks me over too, excitedly singing his chitchat song, perhaps to distract me from his nest. When he effortlessly rises up through the trees into a blazing blue sky, I become aware, with a careless joy, that there is no other moment than this.
My body drenched in sunlight, I laugh at my delusion, that happiness is elsewhere and that I’m separate from what’s around me. Nothing spectacular has occurred, yet I have stepped into some masterpiece. A wonder in my eyes beyond, me, my, and mine.
I’m shaken awake by all around me. The orioles call, is shot like an arrow into me. A sparrow rests in the honeysuckle, one eye open. In opening to receive these offered gifts, I choose to measure everything based on this.
