turkey vultures

turkey vultures, suddenly i see

on my horizon, grace-

fully they glide a path, circular

seeking yet unknowing, trust

no linear determination here and

now, no striving to move forward flap

and flutter, falter

but on instinctive, opened wings

they’re carried by the wind,

the same that blows this

drape back from my eyes, my chin

uplifted as i watch them rise

to dance their request o’er me

 

and i say yes

yes to the off’ring rich they see

in me a feast am i

so many deaths have littered my terrain

but bleeding touched becomes

placental sustenance

upon which Love may dine

 

my own arms now extend

in welcoming embrace

of these so recently maligned, despised

received

for i recognize them too,

as me

their hungering acceptance of my life as gift

 

no moment wasted

each pain-filled death transformed

into a wedding feast

that We may be nourished in our union

and that these broken wings

may fly.

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Trackback: the fledging | Emmaatlast's Weblog

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M.C. Reardon

photographer~painter~poet

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