Spirit Wind

Spirit Wind been blowing me,
no doubt, I lie back
on a cushion of cirrocumulus
waiting for my ride, feast
on such a luxury of daylight,
already thanking my lucky thumb

The bounty of Creation sustains me
as the slightest breeze fills
the belly of a sail, I can see
the rainstorm coming for miles
and almost always
make it to the nearest bridge

I stand here in the center of the circle
of my Mother Earth, whose
beauty from space is the gem of my
closed eye, whose not wholly grown
children we are, sailing
over all my old horizons in a glance

I stand waiting for another glimpse
through the magnifying lens
of a split-second meeting of eyes,
watching as a safecracker listens
through his fingertips for the telltale
tumblers of an opening heart

Spirit Wind, take me home to the place
where my sisters and brothers join hands
in a circle within the circle, sharing
the light of days and stars and looks,
passing from hand to hand
the sacred electricity of living –