Sky Diamonds

Sky Diamonds

Born--
once again.
Spring is here.
As we then revere,
gone is the yesteryear.
And yet I look backwards
to the movement of the birds.
Flying arrows down southward,
behind tired wings of the point bird,
holding knowledge in point bird's beak.
Where did it learn the migration technique?

Unique.

Something within us compels us all to seek,
a wisdom we’ll find in the future antique.
Something we neither saw nor heard,
a sense, or touch of feeling absurd.
There may be too many words
to explain the flying of birds,
describe the fleeting fear,
as fall grows ever near.
We drop another tear,
again and again--
and we then,
so forlorn,
mourn

.