If I were to write my life story

I’d start from now and work backwards,

All the while forever continuing the story forward

Until I can write no more

Until I’ve been written off the page

This morning I saw a veiled gray image

Hovering over the highway

Like a giant ghost of a thing

I drove into this day noting that it was remarkable

The world fresh and bright with hope hanging

In the bare trees golden with the sun’s new light

Then it came into focus

I immediately recognized the hypnotic slow pumping

Of its immense wings, the snake-like neck

How rare it is to ever see more than one

Solitary they are.

It flew right in front of my car speeding along

And so I slowed, and I slowed, and I slowed

Eyes on the road and eyes on the mark in the sky

What would the title be?

How do you name a life, a song, or a bird?

With heels dug down deep in this moment of my life

With eyes gazing skyward

I am ready, so ready – The great blue heron told me so.