migration

DSC_0987

~Ode to the tribe,

women I returned to east,

and women I left at the mountains

 

 

 

Remember the slender neck of goose

as she carries her weight

on wind, craning

 

to tundra. She nests and becomes mother,

then south returns to self,

ever the tide.

 

Since a child among the pines, I’ve heard the call

my mother beckoning me

to witness the migration.

 

What strain did she hear,

my mother?

 

Does the goose’s appeal ever

signal serenity

as she rides the current homeward?

 

and which is homeward?

 

I know the ache of taking flight,

Seeing land you love fall away from your fingers,

however outstretched.

The resolute love of both artic mountains, eastern harbors.

 

Standing aside my mother,

Watching geese bellies glide overhead,

their emphatic voices summoning,

I did not first see the banded wings.

Unaware the weight they carry,

how home folds inward, tucked

into the hearts of those we love, and wanders.

 

 

Advertisements
migration

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s