Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Become

...the shadow world under
the snow owl's silent flight.
Glide deeper, hunting
deep wild fields
until you are
your own ancient
shaman's heart
beating in a
stupendous
starry sky.

2 comments:

  1. Hi Loma, I was soaring with the owl when I read your poem,my own heart beating in time.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Barb. I am always so delighted when a poem reaches across the space between us. Keep on soaring!

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