Symphony #5, Call of the Whippoorwill


Symphony #5, Call of the Whippoorwill

By Michele Habel-Coffey


A static breeze floats

full of electric charge and knows

what way it longs to go, meandering

Pushing forward

Pushing back

Closed in, it stays

the twisted path


The aged spine of a wise old man

Crooked but true

The windy rivers passing through

skies and waters blue – touching


Wet lips that graze

Pulsing waves

A humid haze

That rises in the heated atmosphere – stirring


For a moment

Clouds form in between

The natural scene


But in the end the wind does know

Just where to go

It follows the river’s energy

Currents


The years have deepened

flowing lines

Now intertwined

Now undertow

Still, they pass through misty mountains

Rushing high

Rushing low


Then at once

Or perhaps at length

The range comes to an end

And the breeze no longer needs

To twist and bend – yearning


I wonder now

When freedom rings

Does the breeze grow wings?


And travel on, outside the lines…

Forever or

For just a time


As a lake comes to gather

And from the river fills

Deep and still

Waiting

for the nighttime call of the whippoorwill


To announce the breeze has yet returned

To meet the water now still and sure


Some days my wondering

Leads me to the lake

Where I sit and watch

For watching’s sake

As the wind pulls the water

Into waves and breaks

White with crested foam


And I know for sure the breeze

Will always come

To tease the lake

For teasing’s sake

Dancing tempest

Prospero’s ache


A moment there

A lifetime gone

All summed up by the sparrow song

Calling its own name

Symphony #5

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