SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 1Before the big Superbowl game in Florida this afternoon, I found this amazing bird of paradise in Ed's backyard. As I looked closely at it, its beauty seemed related to everything beautiful I have ever known, and at the same time somehow unconnected to the ritual of Superbowl Sunday, the occasion for which family and friends had gathered at Ed's house.

My writing for the BLOG today was prompted by a discussion among a group of friends earlier in the day, and the ritual of talking and laughing and eating and drinking with friends and family at a Superbowl party which was also a celebration of Margaret's birthday. She blew out the candle and made a wish.

TRIBAL RITUALS

It’s not what’s said that comforts me,
Nurtures my soul,
Sustains me in dark moments,
But the predictable movements
Of Margaret setting the table,
My Mother saying grace,
The priest holding high the chalice,
Children playing hopscotch,
Ed’s birds of paradise.