I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Jennifer Miller’s reflection and poem Winged Teachers.
One of the best lessons from the pandemic was the art of slow living. My backyard became my sanctuary, and everything happening in it was suddenly much more interesting to me. The less human contact I had, the more kinship I felt with all the animals who lived just a few steps away. My greatest teachers during that time were a pair of Eastern bluebirds. As the female brooded for a couple of weeks and received support from the male, I began to see the lockdown as a container where something good might grow. I wrote more poems during that period than I ever had before, and those lessons about slowing down, observing, and nurturing my creative self have stayed with me.
Winged Teachers
When the human world had shut down,
the natural world stayed open,
signs still blinking like they always had,
though subdued by brighter lights.
More of us noticed what was happening
in our own backyards.
A bird house nailed to the fence the year before
became occupied with Eastern bluebirds,
the cobalt hue of their feathers nourishing me
like good medicine from an old bottle.
Nesting, they taught me about acceptance of what is,
how brooding does not have to mean captivity,
how the stillness can bring forth something
new and hungry for life.
Jennifer Miller’s work has appeared in Humana Obscura, Gypsophila, and anthologies by Womancraft Publishing. Born and raised in the North Georgia Mountains, she lives with her husband and a black cat named Raven in lower Alabama. Find her at JenMillerPoetry.com and on Instagram @jenmillerpoetry.
