fly

A poem-in-progress, meant for submission to The Awakenings Review

in the drizzled dawn, standing at 
the top of the hill on which i live, 
i look out over the lake where 
geese swim and eat in summer. 

it is coming ‘round to autumn; 
the trees have already shifted into 
a beautiful golden hue, vivid as 
the forsythia in spring, which sits 
in contrast to the gray skies, 
bleak as iron or the grave 

above, the geese in flight 
cross from the northern tree line 
and sweep gently above me, 
pulled by instinct 
into a flight of grace and determination. 

they glide through air, 
as if flight were effortless, 
as if this journey will not take 
the consumption of stores 
they have spent a season building 

perhaps, in some dim recess 
of the flock’s mind, they are aware 
that to stagnate in that lake is 
to die, frost-bitten and starved 

maybe it is merely the 
inexorable pull of instinct 
which they cannot refuse 
and which will save them 
from a fate they do not know 

for it is the nature of these cycles 
that they come without pause 
and we are helpless to deny them 

bound by their nature, 
they must follow their leader, 
exhausted, as they burn their fat 
lose the bounty of that lake 
until, spent, they touch down 
on the southern shores. 

in their journey, most need only 
continue despite their exhaustion, 
need only look to their leader 
and keep position in the line. 

it is the leader, who has the strength 
to navigate and fly at once 
who my prayer goes out to: 

make it there quick, 
and please, oh please, 
make it there safely. 

Author's Note

This is still in progress. I will say only this, in homage to my mother's red pen:

Make it bleed!

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

From start to end, and especially the latter, this is an amazingly visual poem. Kudos offered for each and every phrase.

[MomzillaNC]

There is something timeless and hopeful about these kinds of natural cycles. It's a privilege to witness them. And yes, we always hope a better humanity will help rather than hinder.

[Grumpie]

I enjoyed this! A contemplation that resolved in an interesting, and important, realization.