It is not really a poem,but I need to write it down.

I took a walk today, ending up by the sea.
Then something happened.Something that surely
happens every day, but somehow I had not noticed before.

The dark flock of birds floating and diving above the old pier,
their whirlwind rhythm,their chaos in harmony,
the way they divide then come together again
in ever changing shapes, fast but never crashing,
was salvation.
I do not know what makes thousands of birds
perform this beautiful dance.always above the same spot,
with the orange sun fading fast
behind their wings of unexpected hope,
but that is how we should be dancing, not with this awkwardness,
our clumsy feet keeping us down,
self-absorbed in our own shoes.

I let the tears fall freely, a hot stream bringing redemption,
washing away the demons slowly, and as one by one
I let them be gone, I felt I now had more room to fill
with ancient wonders, birds, colours, faces of
passers by, the fresh scent of winter dreams.
It was such a cliche-revelation, but it did leave me wide eyed
taking in the miracle of life, looking at everything
through baby's eyes.

I felt like a baby,
and I somehow might have looked like one,
as strangers on the way home kept smiling at me.