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THE SNOW GOOSE
Over ten thousand wings, pounding through an icy wind,
as united bodies became, the thundering muscular tension.
The next day, one snow goose, hard feathered and oily,
her frail tender breast, in the barely warming morning sun
and her brown eye, that had sunken, far into the season.
She was a northern light, a navigator beneath the stars,
oceans away, on my night of the thundering snow geese,
and how I would never travel with them, or within them,
but how my spirit soared beneath them, on the icy plain
and when they thundered and pounded, my heart was taken,
and when they landed on the still cold waters of my spirit,
I saw the eternity in the eye of the snow goose and I wept.
If you only knew, how I longed for your far away destination,
how much you have given me, in this season of your migration,
as you lifted me, into your wintery skies, of courage and death. |
