Birds, Dogs, Trees, the River · Grace · If You Enjoy Your Life · Poetry

Turning

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Turning toward fall, I give thanks for the restorative time spent this summer with family, friends, and the earth!   Always, too, I give thanks for birds.

I am a secret poet and not a very good one at that. I especially like to write poemish things to remember some of the birds I see and how blessed I am to watch them and live with them. I wrote this one last summer at Kripalu, when I was walking on a break from a workshop that was, well, very emotionally triggering for me. The wind, the water, the catbird helped me turn back to my body and to realize that I was, actually, safe.

Ripples

The gray clouds, still and low

and the sun dropping to my right,

a ghost wind triggered a wild rustling

in the tangled, brush.

The birds: trilling, shrieking, churring

before turning in for the night.

For a second time in one day

a catbird swooped low

and stayed still til I came close.

Then, its slender slate body

flashed a garnet rump at me.

We breathed

and soaked in golden light

before turning in, toward night.

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