Salvation
It is deep into the cold night
silver light bathes the sky and river
God is keeping two of everything
and one of me
I am a dichotomy
a symphony of joy
and a factory of sorrows
Overhead
A large vee of fowl
A plaintive squall
A trail of muffled sqwaks southbound in infinite space
Migration’s muted survival song
hymn to winter and to
falling stars
Quiet
It is dark now
I am floating in a small raft of woven reeds
I can sense the deep bottom below
as I flit like a newspaper hat toward the dawn
my fingers trace spiraling
ripples of daybreak
I am drifting toward daylight
and the salvation that it brings.