Posted by: highmountainmuse | February 22, 2009

Whooping Crane

Had I not turned my head towards the mountain

Perhaps I would not have seen her

I would not have know she was ever here

Ever in a place we have never known

Such magical birds to fly

 

White on white were her feathers in the snow

As she flew silently through the trees

Blending in with the white sky, the white air

A vision that makes you wonder

If what you are seeing is real

I still am not certain

Was this just a dream?

 

She was not there for me

I knew that then

The fact that I was lucky enough to see her

Was chance on my part

But of no effect on her

I was an observer

She was in flight

We always think it must be about me

And for our own comfort

Relate it all back to how it effects me

 

There was nothing made for me here

I was just there

Below the flight path of this great white bird

Able to see this surreal vision

Until my eyes could not separate her from the white of the snow

And no one else to see

No one else to know

She was not there for me.

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Responses

  1. Mmmmm. Those look awesome.
    I know what’s for breakfast tomorrow. Mmmmmm

  2. I imagine you mean the cinnamon rolls, not the cranes! 🙂


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