Seagull

I sit on the balcony,

Watching the ocean.

A lone seagull swoops down,

Lands on the sand,

Then takes flight again.

(That’s what seagulls do).

The seagull reminds me of the time

Now 40 years ago,

When Dad told me

That Jonathan Livingston Seagull

Was one of his favorite books.

I read the book

After he told me that,

But couldn’t understand

Why this book

Meant so much to him.

Today,

I read the book again

And make my weekly phone call

To Dad.

He asks me

Again and again,

How I am, where I am, and what I am doing;

Tells me

Again and again,

About his visits to the park

(That didn’t really happen);

Questions

Again and again,

Whether I am his daughter,

Whether he is really 87 years old,

Whether he has already eaten his bowl of ice cream,

Why he is breathing so hard.

“I will call you next week, Dad,

And I love you with all my heart.”

“I love you, too. I always will.

You’re my daughter, right?”

“The trick was to know that his true nature lived…everywhere at once across space and time.”

–Richard Bach, Jonathan Livingston Seagull