portland independent media center  
images audio video
newswire article creative global

faith & spirituality

Facing South

poem for the eclipse(d)
Facing South

The birds come
they sit
like sentinels
on the wire
never fearing
their end
I watch
and pray
as they gather
dark wave forms emitting
light fades
tilting towards Winter's kiss
plucks old dreams
from the sky limping gray
sets them all down for a long talking
to myself
the chatter blind ceases for a
second chances
hard to find
to make
these choices

Shall I sit
on the wire facing South
today remembers her warm
breeze promising to keep
me safe
If her hands didn't leave
how could I know
cold contracting inward
animal shelter
What is birthed on the winter wire
too quiet to grasp
if your hands hadn't left me
for another
sphere grows brighter
as this one shadows
nodding in grace compacted
delivers me warm
closer
still

Watch them go
three becomes two
now one
still singing
My kin darkened
stand behind me
moonless night
truth becomes invisible
might is succored
beyond the brave
they come
they sit
they're gone
like your hands were never here
like your hands never left


poet34
11/22/03