Purple Martins

in these passing moments

the only purpose

of their tapered wings is freedom

after the fledge they fill

the lower sky with joy

unfettered acrobatics 

amazing grace

swallows

swoop and bank

test contours of the breeze

touch textures of the air

part

gather

chatter under eaves

on rails

at the low end

of slanting roofs

above the grandest house

the chorus chirps

from breast to heart

from feather tips

through hooked beaks

with eyes always on

the summoning horizon

a brief rehearsal

before a long migration

their celebration of renewal

your feet are rooted now

in tired clay

in once fertile soil

so it’s not odd

their chipper notes

should suggest to

an aching wanderlust

that you embrace the quest

give flight another shot

the journey where some

die along the way

where others

do not make it

safely to the end

they seem with

each passing summer

to summon you

to their hard pumping days

their unsafe nights

a memory of before

being all to justify

the whispered invitation

you wonder often now

in morning fog waiting

for the sun to have its way

if soaring above might be the better choice

puzzle over why you refuse to find

the courage to rise above the clouds

to go let go and then one day perhaps return

to sing and weave another nest

for a brief interval before you rest