Flycatcher in Brazil called Bem-te-vi.I was sitting in the padaria, having my usual toast and coffee, in my usual spot next to an open wall, when I heard a strong and clear cry of a bird, “Bem-te-vi, bem-te-vi.” I looked up and, on a roof across the street, sat a colorful bird well known here for its plumage and distinctive cry, which gives it its name as well.

It hopped to a couple of different perches, an awning, a high-line wire, before it disappeared, always crying, always warning. But nobody paid it any mind. Continue reading

Up before dawn this morning, I read emails and posts to discussion groups and The Fellowship Room, with tears in my eyes at one point from the grace I saw displayed in my friends. In the quiet of dark, lines and turns of phrase penetrated the window at my back with the coolness of waning night.


by J. Randal Matheny copyright (c) 2010

Comes the dawn, the stir of wings,
The form of clouds, the growing depth
Of trees within the silhouette. Continue reading