In the Echinacea

A Cardinal, spying from the pow’r lines by my kitchen window, acts tempestuously

As if he cannot resist me

Truth be told, I’m fond of him, too

Remarkable as he is — less a vivid red than most, and volume missing in the tufts of his shaggy cone

I know the migration he’s been through, and he needs that

Unafraid to ask, I say, “What is it you want?”

His response…be still, my heart!

I won’t betray his confidence, but we see eye-to-eye

It’s the reason he finds himself landing in my backyard peach tree at every possible opportunity

Poking around in the Echinacea, for calm

Glad I give him refuge, I leave open the door

Talking with him like this, leaves me wanting more

Elevated

Not taking no for an answer, She
Dressed up sexy for the crimes of He

Master-mechanic motivating, She
A fine-tuned engine emerges, He

Speaking in the same tongue, You & Me
Ascend from sorrow’s basement, We

He Said To Me

I need to move

from Earth

I need to make space

as if I were a creator

or creative, of some sort

I need to mark

from Intention

I need to mean something

as if they’d someday speak

Or marvel, of the firmament

Remembered

He
With a clarinet voice in June 
On a lone sun day sang his joy us tune
What a gift was he

Me
On a journey that won’t end soon
Thru windows without strings calling the moon
He’ll remember me