Along the Flyway

Entering a field, our dog lowers

her head and sniffs around for the

longest time. Suddenly, she looks

up and starts running wildly in all

directions, just for the joy of running,

not after anything, just stretch, leap,

turn, and pant. I think she’s trying

to tell me something. For days I feel

I’ve done nothing but sniff around.

Except I feel guilty doing all this

sniffing. I used to wonder why

someone would hold a bird rather

than try to fly. But I finally under-

stand that holding is the way we

fly through all this loving and

suffering which is our sky.