First Migration

First migration! First migration..... first migration. If only computer typed words could sing the song of my heart to see the first dance of geese across the sky, silhouettes against the rising sun as I began an early morning walk. Sigh... if only you could know this simple childlike heart that stood breathless to watch.  First migration, the return home. The call in their hearts that lift their wings and the journey begins.

I have walked the seasons, counting not years, but the rhythm and dance of seasons as they turn the pages of my life. Sometimes the rhythm leaves dog eared pages turned down to remember or threads dangling as bookmarks.  As their dance carried them beyond my eyes, the sun drew my eyes to see the green leaf covered in morning dew. The green of spring's kiss glimmering in the sun.  Next week is autumn's equinox yet spring continued to bathe a leaf. 

 Just beyond the glistening drops of spring's kiss the sun painted what was to come. Against the yellow of autumn, shawled with the red of fire and life, the grass created a shadow of fall's naked dancing tree. Spring and summer's luminous kiss against the rhythm of fall dancing onto the stage.

First migration.  The call to journey home.  Spring's kiss and autumn's naked fiery dance.  Another page turned. Another threaded bookmark.  And a whispered prayer to all who might see and maybe even to feel this morning reverie, 'Lift your wings. Dance lightly onto the stage. May your heart rejoice in the rhythm with the assurance, she knows the way Home.'