Glide white wings through azure sky
beneath a morning moon,
They were just
paddling a tight circle on a small clear lake, fishing,
Human angels against
A backdrop of hate
Raised white linen wings fashioned for protection
To shield hearts shattered from grief
From a raw harshness yet part of this world
Just last week.
They filter in to my thoughts
And a few tears well up, grateful
We have Creator’s original blueprints of beauty
White pelicans against a cerulean sky, a teacup moon
To inspire us
To bravely block
Disregard of pain and suffering.
I walk through a dozen different grasses,
Below this miracle sky on rolling prairie –
Studded with deep blue stalks of delphinium, purple penstemon
yucca, mullein, nodding Mexican hat.
Red winged blackbirds, bobolink, meadowlark
Open up slender throats
And sing out loudly
Their gorgeous, original songs.
Notes we can identify, consistent and true, over years and decades,
Stepping through our histories of love and hate
Such a stir of love I feel
For these birds, these songs,
These flowers upon my path.
I’ll fold them into memory
As an anecdote
For these times, and the times ahead
in which we live.