Offering XXVII: The Coming of the Birds

March 25, 2025

retreat move on transform mutate

grow old disappear rise

fly away

gone are the days of holding on

soft words and leather hands

I loved to explore

workworn calloused

untended strong

the space is greater between us

now

can I conjure the wonder

or see from a distance

through the workshop window

your head bowed in work

busy making

always making

I could touch heaven then

Now

I am mute

close to the earth

and listen for the choir

of returning birds