She whispers my name... Only I can hear

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Notes from earlier this month

The story of a promise
The promise to return....

Last week my dreams were haunted by the sounds of migrating geese
Far off – flying high overhead

This week I have seen them – Sunday, Tuesday and again this morning
They spoke to me of news out of the south – and of open waters ahead
Today is for gathering – down along the Mohawk River
(Though that is not their name for it)

No flight is planned for today...

They discuss the weather – the route – the prospects of an early nesting season
They did not mention Dick Cheney, Exxon Mobil or Iraq
And I was glad for a short time to forget them as well

My mind was set free for a moment or two
To contemplate open water; and ice...
Green shoots of new grass impatiently pushing through the snow
looking for spring
Feathers oiled and preened with pride

What must it be like to be able to feel the earth’s power within you?
And know which direction to take, without need of maps or compass
How beautiful the earth must look as it passes by far below
Your wings carry you home – and the petty world of men & women is of little concern

My heart reaches out to them
Filled with love; and awe at their mere presence
They look at me with knowing eyes
As if to say they know me – a kindred spirit

For one brief moment we are one
Joined by common bonds
The genes we share as living beings
And our love of this place called earth
(Though that is not their name for it)

We part – and I am forced to leave reality
And return to this bizarre illusion we call society
Before I am late for work
But my heart does not forget
Tomorrow a part of me will take wing and journey far north with them

Once more – The promise is fulfilled – and spring cannot be far behind

(Inspired by Winged Migration - )

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