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The Geese
Blue-black, purple sky recedes
As dawn peeks out her curtain;
Eyelids kissed by rising sun,
of egg shell white, I'm certain.
I say goodnight to night.
With asphalt tapping under foot
The morning moves another chance
For me to enter into dance with God.
I thought I was alone this morning,
Running in a stillness.
Lost, with cost
Of only air exhaled.
Rising Swirls of smoke
As my engine puffs its lungs of air,
Dismissing yesterday
With all its care.
Without a labour, calm
Alone inside the dawn,
Leaning into nothingness but time.
I found myself
Standing on a bridge,
Hearing distant trumpets then,
Secreting sounds of honking when,
A distant movement shimmered on
A bank of glimmered green.
A flight of motion swept the air
As geese in flight, by morning light
Flew to meet me there.
Six in V,
Approaching me
Between the trees and waters pressed;
As I, with awe undressed
Stood naked in astonishment.
A calvary of feathers fly,
Brush my hair, reflect my eye.
As kinship new,
Inside my hallowed space
They flew.
Carrying off
My lingering stare
To leave me humbled,
Trembling there
Wrapped inside
The presence of
My God.
Copyright ©
Vernon Witmer
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