The Breach

The Breach

 

“Start Doing What Is Necessary,

Then What Is Possible, and Suddenly

You Are Doing the Impossible.”

-Francis of Assisi

 

-

The pelicans are gliding now
Above the surf, as willets bow

And take the creatures of the sand,
As sanderlings race down the strand

The plovers flutter in a crèche

But like a thing
That is one flesh,

They rise into the windy air
And fly unto, I know not where

The tide is high and loud, and white
And clears the footprints of the night;

The sun is trembling on the lip
Of where the waters rise and dip

-II-

A songbird falls upon the heath
Amid the rockweed at my feet;

And I am stranded in a place
Between the sea and sudden grace

All things suggest calamity,
Except that she is here with me!

For though she waits upon my will,

I have God’s mercy to fulfill

 

I must not leave -
I shall not go!

Yet I may do no more than know
What outcome may befall this chance
That joins our lives in circumstance

 

-III-

I stay with her as she may die
Or rise in glory to the sky!

I guard the treasure of her mind
I leave her not alone behind!

-IV-

The sanderlings race down the strand;
The gulls are huddled on the sand

The sun is crawling up the beach,
And I am counseled

In the breach.

 

The Fall of the Chipping Sparrow

 

(Even My Best Deeds Are Undermined by My Nature)

 

“The Breach” recounts an event that took place on Oak Island during the concluding days of my long infatuation with wildlife photography. I was focusing my attention on the antics of a young sanderling that seemed to be tailing me down the strand. Suddenly, a small songbird, which I believe to have been a chipping sparrow, fell to the sand very near my feet. It was as if the heavens had opened in a way that created a gap between me and what I had only a moment ago considered to be serenity.

 

Indeed, I was so startled that I experienced a momentary sense of existential fear. But the mere falling of this bird was not what unnerved me, as I have always been given to interpreting a breach in nature as a sign of stirring in the other realm. No, what caused my alarm was the equanimity of the sparrow’s gaze as we appraised each other’s stature. I would characterize the moment as extremely odd; I would even call it stilted because I was as wary of her judgment as she was of mine - And in that regard, she may have held the upper hand.

 

But I was not concerned with how this situation had come about but with why it had, because a songbird has no business flying in an area dominated by larger omnivores, especially ones that are actively searching for food. Maybe she was just blown here by a strong wind. How could I know? But one thing seemed probable: Had she not fallen where she did, she is likely to have been devoured by the gulls that congregated in the air nearby.

 

So, I decided to stay with her until her fate was decided, which was gratifying to me because although I have lived much of my life as an inconspicuous bystander, I have always had some qualities that I believe make me worthy of divine consideration. For example, I will regularly take the part of an underdog, which is to say, that mercy has always come easily to me. I hope that does not make me sound conceited, as I recognize that where the active demonstration of goodness is the measure, I have come up short at all times, and on nearly every front.

 

That conceded, I must admit that I was in no hurry to transport this unfortunate creature to safety since I believe it is possible to contract a serious disease through physical contact with a wild bird. Still, I found myself beginning to do just that. But as I lowered to gather her, she burst to the relative safety of the dunes, freeing me of uncomfortable obligation and allowing me the opportunity to ponder this event from a greater distance.

 

Now, although I thought of several things that apply to a discussion of mercy, what seemed most applicable to me is how my ability to express mercy is subject to my estimation of the costs I may incur in giving it, and to a lesser degree, my vanity. In that situation, my good intentions were strained by my pathological fear of contracting a disease, and I did not like the thought of how a more forthright person would act more swiftly and with greater conviction than I possessed, as that thought seemed to minimize the virtue I was trying to enact. What that meant to me is expressed below.

 

U

 

Even my best deeds

Are diminished by

 

The duality of my nature;

 

Which is to confess,

 

That I do not possess

The ability to perform

An unstrained act of mercy,

 

But only the potential to be something

Like an implement, God uses to deliver it.

 

Therefore, I am made to stand down,

Admiring God for His dexterity

In utilizing an available tool.