Whistling (day 1065)

Today there is a sign,
A window of an opening
Whistling softly,
Dragging at my conscience.
I acknowledge it.
I sit cross-legged
To experience its frequencies
Reverberate my lifeline.
This lesson is wordless,
Perched upon low hanging ledges
Of spring’s naked birch trees.
I imagine smoke
Wafting its sacred essence.
And my peace and gratitude
Flows mingling with the wind,
Vibrating to wordless words
Whistling through my conscience.

With Wings as Black as Night (day 802)

I knew I’d recognize you
Though you weren’t wearing your Wellingtons
It wasn’t hard to miss you for
Beaming proud was on your face
Your feet were wrapped in exotic fur
Bound by moccasins
That made your step about the grounds
Delightfully light and charmed
You wore about your head so gay
A red rose, pinned towards the back
Of your lady-hawk’s slickest moments
Black as night and long
I knew I’d offer you my arm
To waltz about to and fro
In the darkest hours
In the bright daylight
To the attention of our fancy
I’m not sure where I left you off
Or where it since began
But your sacred heart is telling me
To let mine go with wings