It is impossible as head-nodders for us to learn the true subject of our gossip.
But gossip we do, nod we do, smile and frown and clap we do like starlings at early dawn; we flap, we rustle, we cling together and rise from the grasses flying this way and that, seeking the leader whose randomness fails us.
At sundown the murmuration ceases and together we rest the rustle, the rhyme, the rhythm of the restless as darkness overcomes. Tomorrow we rise again and like the murmuration of starlings we dismount from our roosts,
our heads awaggle,
we shall gossip and gaggle,
the bloated carcasses of our forgotten comrades adding nourishment to the earth and one or two will say “do you remember whatsisname?”.
Oh yes comes the answer, he had so many strange, new ideas.
And with heads abob we bestow our final, limited approval in measured doses while nodding approval to the brief observance of continuity, forgetting yet another true leader.
whose truth was to “lead only one’s self”.
From: LEADERSHIP: A LOVE STORY