Proud Papa

Art: (c) Mark Collins

Is it possible to know the purpose of our  

name before it is placed in the world

by those utterly dependent upon

our ability to recognize their voice?

~

The bluebird fledglings had been calling out

to their parents for nearly three weeks:

Caterpillars! Big ones.

Spiders! Nice ones.

Crickets! Loud ones.

Grasshoppers! Green ones.

Beetles! Many.

Feed me!

Feed me!

Feed me!

Then one day, when Papa Bluebird was sitting

on a branch with the twins, they each did

as he did. Three birds caught three crawly

things.

He was proud, and a little sad. In the moment

that he fully realized his worth, he wasn’t

needed anymore.

~

I know a proud Papa and his beloved daughter,

sometimes a princess, sometimes a mermaid.

Ask him about the joy of tending and he starts

talking life changing gibberish:

About becoming a container without limits.

About the pleasure of being trampled on.

About being owned as a soul’s longing that

arrived as a surprise and never let go.

He is hers—“Papa!”—and she is his,

eternally and temporarily, as we all could

somehow be to each other.

Over and over again, he gets it wrong and

then gets it right, so she gets it right.

And, she does: I’ve watched her leave

a perch to catch love, succeed, and,

upon return,

alight with gratitude.

~

And, me as witness, watching, I’ve

learned a few things about pride:

How it is a landscape of claiming

and letting go.

How it is blessings evidenced in our

relationships to other.

How it teaches us about callings

meant only for us, and a response

that can only be ours.

And, how it should always be

voiced into the world as,

“Thank you.”

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

For a book collaboration project with artist Mark Collins
https://markcollinsfineart.com/

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