Wild Hope
The Canada geese break the morning silence
With throaty cries that are songs of greeting
As they break the glass water of the pond,
Sending small ripples, shoreward, toward my feet.
I stand under the bare boughs of a maple
That stretches across the pond for the sun
In a heliotropic cambre line,
Strong and longing, a natural posture.
I move back in deference to these lives
Who would hug the shore if I would leave it,
Who greeted me in love, that I might leave
Them to their wild peace, where life finds a way.
I cleared a space that geese find the same–
Sung in wild notes, wild hope’s prior claim.
Author: Sandy Lee Carlson
Photo: David Thielen on Unsplash
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