Murmuration

I want to be part of a murmuration of people,
an expanding arc of those who move in syncopation,
who trust each other unquestioningly,
who can alter course in a fraction of a moment,
who work together at high speeds,
bending and flexing in response to one another.

I want to be part of a species of people who are willing to fill the sky,
cast their confident wings into nothingness, certain that they will not fail.
I want to be, for that second, the one who shifts the whole tribe,
changing the bend of history if only for that slim dime of time.

I want to know people who sweep across their lives,
know their poles and attractions, their norths and souths,   
be among those who know when it is time to move and then move.
I want to be someone who is like these that I want to be part of,
starling in the evening-tide, flying, just flying,
air in my bones, air under my wings, so light
I could hold myself in the palm of my hand.