Belfast Murmuration

No healing without grace

No healing without first being broken

the way one bird shatters into thousands

starlings

black seeds

thrown up from Victoria Bridge

against a purpling sky

It could be chaos

instead the bird-turned-thousand

coils

twizzles

mosaics

then heals together

in waves,

net gathering

pieces of sky

or a flung rug of bird

deciding what else it could be –

a tunnel

a tree, accelerated

a continent

or perhaps a word

All the alternatives to brokenness

offered by grace