A redbird has been following me for so long,
looking at each other through these hand prints on the windows.
Walking grass, soft earth,
a pilgrimage without a map,
but she follows me and speaks:
The autumn air clearing,
Her song rode the winds and took form
In a single snowflake
Fallen on my heart,
Gentle and kind
Enlivening and awakening
The best in me that has longed to give.
Will I have time to learn her melody,
So others might know the touch of grace,
So I can make good on the debt of all the love I’ve received,
So I can be remade into a prayer
sung by the redbird following you now?