The Echo Makers Song

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(author’s picture taken at the Bosque del Apache in January 2020)

 

I was planting

red willows

around a pond

crafted from shining

stone

when I first heard

the choral refrain.

Was that when I

remembered the coyote’s

mourning howl,

a swollen day moon,

my upset stomach,

Magpie’s unexpected visit?

 

Changes lay ahead…

 

I always heed

the signs…

 

You circled

around me crying out

to others who shifted direction

to join you rising,

soaring on the thermals,

spiraling

higher and higher

gathering as One.

 

I strained my eyes

to vision…

six foot wings

dip and soar

arms circling

blue as I

climbed with you

into a deep sky sea,

your songs

a Calling .

 

I’m sure you know

I hear your voices

before I sleep.

 

You didn’t have

to stay so long,

riding the thermals overhead

flying higher and higher

but you did.

 

You brrrred my name

for almost an hour

as I stood riveted to

sound and sight

Gray wings whistling

trailing black threads…

each circle

a benediction,

until your

bountiful bodies

were lost in air too thin.

Voices echoed on…

trumpeting goodbye for now.

 

You set the course.

heading due Northeast

above reptilian mountains,

repeating last year’s pattern,

with perfect precision

– a form of Natural Grace that

only the Blessed possess.

 

Such a perfect day,

for you to soar!

Feathered and warm

with enough

wind to ease the flight.

I imagine you may glide tonight

under the moon’s white light.

 

While you are here with me

the bogs keep us rooted

in earth, grasses, and water,

bound by winter grace…

As woman and bird

we make

bi – annual journeys…

 

After your voices faded,

I resumed willow work,

weaving our lives

into a single braid –

part woman part crane –

Oh, I will miss you –

 

And until we meet again

I Love You.

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( Photo Credit Frank Sheldon)