The bird arrives—just at the right time
alone but full, as the murmurs of the earth urges—
this way, that way.
You, unknowing, standing tall
the courage of the bird
and flock behind you.
The you of many threads,
was and is and will be.
Silent the mind
Listen to the whispers
For the roots are planted—
deep and long as the forest grows and falls
Traces—lie deep—permanent
in the underbelly of this breathing earth
on the bed of soil that you laid down
with love, intention,
presence and eternity.
And the secret of the murmur
lies in today, your beautiful day
of loving eyes remembered
warm embraces felt
and the bird—never far
whispering over and over,
the secret of the murmur lies in today,
your beautiful day
a day that I see,
a day worth all the days before.
The day that I see you as I always have
through young eyes and awe.
That day is today.
And all that follow.
No matter where you are.
Breathe deeply.
The roots are holding you.
The bird is nearby—it murmurs
On the tip of the flowers that you sowed.
And I will see you tomorrow.