Jonathan Livingston Seagull

“They are saying in the Flock that if you are not the Son of the Great Gull Himself”, Fletcher told Jonathan one morning after Advanced Speed Practice, “then you are a thousand years ahead of your time.”
Jonathan sighed. The price of being misunderstood he thought. They call you devil or they call you god. “What do you think, Fletch? Are we ahead of our time?”
A long silence, “Well, this kind of flying has always been here to be learned by anyone who wanted to discover it; that’s got nothing to do with time. We’re ahead of the fashion, maybe. Ahead of the way that most gulls fly.”“That’s something,” Jonathan said, rolling to glide inverted for a while. “That’s not half as bad as being ahead of our time”.
Richard Bach
Jonathan Livingston Seagull

The Seagull Speaks Creative Commons Copyright


Creative Commons License

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Doubts



I'm a bird locked up in a cage, 
In a season when all my dreams fade.
I'm a King shut up in a tower,
Looking out on a land over I which I have no power. 
I'm a lion curled up in a cave,
Afraid that I'm not quite so brave. 
I'm a man floundering in a drowning sea,
Thinking how circumstances have overtaken me. 
I'm a skater slipping along on thin ice,
But you know?
I've already fallen through these cracks twice.

This poem is an old one written sometime 1986-1990



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