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.