Creature

Sweet creature, we both met off guard

When I expected nothing, yet everything dragged me

into the funnel of endless waves my own mind created

Circling around questions that knew neither reason, nor outcome.

Sweet creature, the storm raged inside and out

And when I concluded that I had been running through the storm far too long

old irony, I found you

You had been beaten and broken by the storm.

Wild creature, how tiny and fragile your proud body felt

as you sought shelter under my body

Why did you trust me, when I had nothing to offer

I couldn’t fix you.

Maybe that, after all, was a worthy reason

Dying creature you chose me

for you knew I would not try to save you

but keep you safe until you were ready to let go.

And you my precious creature brought me face to face

with my own insignificance, in the eye of your struggle

Your trust and vulnerability, my wild one

humbled me deeply

Which lends truth to the notion

that after all it was not I who found you

but you who chose me

to share the gift of your last journey 

Trust in the eye of pain

Wisdom in consequence to compassion

Love as part of oneness

Sweet creature, when I returned you into the arms of the sea

I also set adrift a part of me

as my tears whispered into the wind

the words “letting go”

*Thoughts on finding a dying common gull.

I found an injured common gull in the harbour. It must have been hurt during the storms that were rolling over Germany in the past days. The little creature looked dazed, but didn't have apparent injuries. I sat down in safe distance to see what would happen. After about ten minutes, the bird began to stumble towards me, very gradually. Another few minutes in it had reached me and sought shelter under my legs, resting its body against one of my calves. I didn't want to pick it up, but I sensed that it was dying, and night was coming and it was so stormy. So I detached the hood from my yellow coat and gently laid it next to the bird and picked it up. That wild, beautiful creature was sitting in my hands, as I carried her home. I didn't know what to do, how to give shelter to a dying bird, but then I thought exactly that: shelter, quiet, safety. By that time I had been repeating a phrase calmingly, like a mantra to appease us both, and it almost felt like that little soul and I had found each other, so I could aid its transition. In the morning I found the little body, resting in the shelter I had set up for her. I am crying out of humility and gratitude for that beautiful wild bird, that trusted me. What a stunning and sad encounter. Rest peaceful little soul.