Wednesday, October 22, 2008

A New Season

Standing for a moment
Toes in winter boots
The river's edge
Gazing into my own
Rippled pond

By a wing of geese
Passing over the water
Like a healer’s hand
Its subtle brush of air
Quieting rippled water
Under the gentle touch
Of its soft feathered shadow

Their colourful-chorused call
Finds me and draws me
From my sleeping place
To join them
In their triumphant return
To spring

Now out of sight
Past the thicket
Of budding branches
On the other side
Of the river
The geese move on

I watched it all happen
And somehow now
My inner pond
Full and clear and still
Has awakened
To the rhythm
Of a new season

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