Chickadees

To the chestnut backed chickadees
who surprised me at my bathroom window
flitting among the rose vines
so close I could see the dawny tufts of their tawny flanks
not noticing me just across the glass
in another plane of existence

I held my breath as they hopped from branch to branch in their wild dance with the roses, not yet in flower
my heart singing and breaking with the joy of their presence
arose in me a deep desire to protect them from harm
and a deep desire to keep them from the harm I would cause them with my fumbling hands
so detached have I been conditioned to be from the realities of my own impacts on this wild earth
raised to believe of myself as the innocent protector
when really it is I who needs them, the presence of the chickadees, more than they need me.