Gannets are enormous and sleek creamy-white seabirds, with black wingtips, yellow heads and necks, and startlingly outlined eyes. They nest on the rocky cliffs of the European and North American coasts of the North Atlantic and, once grown, spend their days sailing across the ocean. The acrobatics by which they make their living ~ steep climbs into the air and speedy plunges straight into the sea ~ are rivaled only by those of pelicans.
What better metaphor for a sweeping search of one's life choices and opportunities than a gannet extended above the waves, a regal and yet restless surveyor of the vast ocean surface? The gannet reminds us that life is an adventure in both beauty and profound unease, and that the sea itself is limitless in its textures and possibilities.
5 comments:
The poets are sometimes the only voices we can turn to and trust....
Wow. {{{{{{GG}}}}}}
Jennifer said it well. That poem is haunting. I wish it was less terrible. I am thinking of you often.
The nights are awful, yes. Still praying for you - for intentions and in your stead, should you have need.
For me it was Gerard Manley Hopkins, SJ..here.
As the wise Jesuit who walked part of my travails with me said...sometimes you need poems and psalms where it doesn't end in resurrection.
Some of Mary Oliver's poetry in "Thirst" and "Red Bird" may also speak to this time....and, of course, some of the Psalms...
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