Returning
(from Brainstorms)
There is no such thing as too much time gone by
to make a change,
to make a difference,
to reach out to an old friend.
Today I took a new path.
Snowball looked wistfully to left
as I nudged her leash straight on.
She kept looking back at me
as if to ask, “Is this the way?”
but I don’t know any more than she does.
And so I wandered
and wondered
where the road would lead this day,
whether I had gone astray,
and when I would get to my destination.
But my mental musings were interrupted
by a tug on the leash.
Snowball had stopped to investigate a new bush.
So I paused too and looked up at the sky,
laced in grays and whites,
and a small patch where the sun,
with curious intention,
tried to glimpse through the veil.
A flock of birds darted across the scene,
fifteen or twenty pairs of fluttering wings
moving with graceful determination.
To whom are they returning?
Will they be greeted with an open heart?