Alone I struggle with the snow
the anger with the sadness grows
can’t seem to rise up from below
I feel so blindly lost.

I’m out of step and out of time
how difficult to find that rhyme
where life flows, not in fits and starts
I curse the bitter cold.

Participants in the parade
march by me in the grand charade
they seem to speak in unknown tongues
outside I stand unknown.

I’m not part of this perfect game
internal rhythms not the same
I wander just outside the maze
locked in a different time.

The geese have said “it matters not,
for we’ve taken you into our flock”
I cease my work to gaze above
into the sullen sky.

I hear them first, then see their flight
the violent wind they’ve caught just right
though sideways turned, they’re in formation
passing overhead.

Above my roof they pause at once
and hover motionless like clouds
a bold display on my behalf
in wonder, I laugh out loud.

They stay suspended, for seconds hover
fly back across with sky as cover
away to distant shores.

The message I believe is this:
to those of you who feel adrift
a novel twist and you will lift
to sky with wind at back.

This flight may be to you at first
uncomfortable, not of this earth
but in the end you’ll see with mirth
you’ll land just where you’ve wished.

Take heart, my struggling little bird
and listen to our feathered words
for soon you’ll glide free of concern
at once I understand.

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