Birds Of Paradise Flee Toward East Poem by Birgit Bunzel Linder

Two birds of paradise flee toward east,
tweet Upanishads, look
outward, inward, upward.
They laugh, and they eat, they drink.
They fly into clouds of Shanti peace,
peck at the order of the metallic sky.
They have no empty branch to settle on,
but spread their wings over orchards
of our blooming apocalypse.
They throw shadows into the e-t-h-e-r-i-z-e-d sky.
They listen to Nerval talk to tables and chairs.

They set out from the western windowsill
of the prophet who croons prophecies,
and land on the eastern balcony
of the dervish who whirls with joy.
They fled from the master tweetative
to learn to sing hybrid songs of peace.

When the birds of paradise come to you,
don't disregard the greatest gift.
They land on one shoulder each
and have become yours.
Why still climb up on the rooftop
and expose them?
Wrap them up in your warm winter skin.