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!

      Delete

The Barefoot Peace of Ash Wednesday

 peace, barefoot walking slowly toward me floating grey and silver the Holy flashing through peace, a gathering of flickering angels he then...