Monday, February 25, 2013


Sometimes even the white
dream their angels
are native children
who chant in a circle
forming a clock.

The sun slants west
and their song speaks
of bones and feathers,
roots and seeds.

What lies in earth
and what drifts upon
wind or water --

the blessed gaze
a soul’s migration.
Note -- The mystical painting is by artist, Susan Seddon Boulet.

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