Two Blue Jays
Two blue jays led me by teasing calls,
can’t-touch-me clatter into thin woods.
Blue motion just beyond reach, rasping
laughing at me, the hot sun bleached
as they climbed then perched. I looked
up – jays haloed, corona’d from sweat,
two jay sunspots against searing light –
looked down, blinked at the perfect X
of two blue jay feathers crossed. A sign
but no clues to why X marked that spot.
The birds now quiet. No clouds, no wind.
Two jays, two feathers, one X.
So many thoughts about that X.
At last I’m almost empty and yet,
and yet the koan catches me.
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