Time Out of Mind

When I take time to notice

cranes pause in migration to dance:

they spiral tight from forward flight

and drop in my direction,

circle twice, thrice, four, and more –

I lose count in my delight.

They and I are one:

we breathe the selfsame air

they so high and I so here

we sing the same old song –

we are all god, you and I and they,

in our migrations true and long.

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