High in the gray blue rain, a black ribbon
ripples and honks.
Banks below barely contain a swollen river
winding through town.
Last year, I stood with hope caught
in my throat, at the brink
of an evergreen world, and the calls above
echoed my own soul.
I return to this space, because You’ve
invited me here. Me, ragged,
unraveled me. Just as birds, beckoned by
some voice only they can hear, return.
Like the river runs heedless, hurried
to answer a churning sea.
I do not know what I’ve come to find, only
only You at my side, filling
my lungs with cedar and fog. Gently, You point
to the geese feeding
in dormant fields, returning, ever returning.