January 6, 2013

Migrant


I see my soul
come circling in,
landing slowly
upon still water,
spent after hundreds
of miles, it feeds itself,
growing slowly stronger.
Sleepy after
another season,
raising another
flock of kin,
it's ready to rise
into the wind,
get back to where
it first came from,
certain now
of where it's been,
sure of where
it's going, again.

1/3/13