Even Speech

There is a sacred quality to common starlings
Those air dancing artisans sculpting on blue-white walls
Just before dusk in magnificent murmuration

The skeptic restrains wonder and attributes
The uncommon to something merely common
To the definition of simply natural, strictly physical

I, too, shrink from something, from overdosing
On all things spiritual in the sense that all speech
Must end mandatorily in Lord and Savior.

For there is a sacred quality to everything,
Even to commonplace language, ordinary friendships
Yes, speech itself is a spectacle unique and glorious

I cannot measure — no, I cannot fathom it —
Six trillion multiplied by ninety-three billion
Or the distance in miles across the universe

Expansive in all directions, too - unexplorable
And yet as incomprehensible as that is,
Consciousness and even speech itself are worthy rivals

Like common starlings doing something uncommon