back
home
white birds gathered in the trees.
poised and still, they crowded
sodden winter-heavy branches.
there were so many
that i gave up counting and
surrendered to the quiet tribute
that i sensed was blossoming above.
in rain-filled air and silent, like the birds,
the spirits of my loved ones gathered round,
in that eternal moment i was in their Love.
loneliness released its anchor
from my aching heart
and i flew
as one
with them,
to the crowded branches high above,
borne aloft on memories so exquisite
in perfection i could barely breathe
my joy when the songs began,
and the air exploded
with the joy of union.
tales of hearts and lives
entwined forever in a symphony
of miracles and blood engulfed me before
soaring wildly from each spirit, bird and branch,
until i wept inside the agony and beauty of each one.
rain is dripping from the quiet trees,
my winter-heavy heart sings
with white birds
and all around me are
the spirits of my loved ones,
singing softly, and forever, of our lives.
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