Swallow Feather

Once, in rainy autumn weather
when I prayed in sad prostration,
at my window fell a feather
like a postcard from Creation.
Gleaming blue with iridescence,
pointer to a deep connection
with some long-forgotten lessons,
signpost of a strange direction.

Now I am a summer swallow
in the sky. I wing in soundless
depths of blue above the boundless
seas. A feathered spirit, flying
since the day, when I lay dying,
God passed by and called me: Follow.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside