Prayer of the Winged Ones
"I opened the garage door this morning to pull out my trash barrel for the weekly ritual. As I struggled with the lid, a small noise startled me. Almost a musical note, above my head. Looking up, I saw a bluish dove sitting on the top rafter. She had apparently gotten trapped inside. For a moment my eyes held her eyes, and I imagined how frightened she must have been . . . or was.
"It was hard to believe that such a winged being — a creature who is able to fly beneath the sun — who knows the intimacy of sunrise — let herself get caught in such a dark place. Slowly I walked back to the outside door, and pushed it open all the way. I let in the sky and whispered to the bird,
" 'You can go, if you want to. You're free.'
"She hesitated for a moment, then gracefully spread her wings and dipped lightly from the rafter to the level of the door. Finding the opening, she quickly flew toward the light. In one breath she caught the wind and was gone.
"I think the bird was me."
