| HomecomingDecember 19 2001 at 11:42 AM | Mike F. |
| Homecoming
Will they ever return?
I asked my mother.
Those birds that have flown -
Will they ever come back?
They must, she said,
Wait for the spring,
The new leaves in the wind,
The blossoms Calling them home.
Yes, they must, she said,
It is a command,
An urgent call
That cannot be denied.
Wait for their songs,
Wait for the singers,
Wait for the sun
And the wind to lead them home.
mbf 12/19/01
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| | Author | Reply | Mike F.
| Another... | December 19 2001, 12:48 PM |
A Calling
When you are alone,
The old man said,
In the forest or the field,
When you are alone
You will hear one call your name.
Do not answer, he said,
But listen well
And see who does.
And the years came
When no one called,
No one answered,
But I listened.
And the years upon years
Came and went.
It was a day of sun
And a day of singing things
In the wind.
A day of birds and butterflies,
Of tall grass bending in the breeze.
And I heard the call,
Michael, are you there?
Listen, I remembered,
Just listen.
I am said the Oak
I am said the grass
And the clouds and the earth
And all living things
Said I am
Then quietly,
With tears and hope,
I spoke aloud -
I,
I too,
I am.
mbf 12/19/01
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