blog description

Old women talk about old things: history, myth, magic and their
checkered pasts, about what changes and what does not.

Friday, April 5, 2013

Crone Yearning


Spring winds are sweeping
Trailing skeins of tundra swans
Radiant chevrons of stark beauty
Drawn North by magnetic mystery

I am walking more
Damaged muscles regaining proper cadence
My hungry heart yearns for open fields
 Distant trees, meandering river spirals

With the wings of a swan
I could be there now
Buoyant upon the living waters
Supple though the rippling weaving reeds



5 comments:

  1. My heart yearns for the places I can no longer walk to as well...

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  2. Beautiful, NJ--I can see those swans and next, fly with them! I too know what it's like to push back against the depradations of Time.

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  3. Beautiful NJ! Oh to return to the open fields, forest's with secret sunny glades and meandering streams and glide on mirrored ponds with the graceful swans.

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