Forgetting Myself

Before dawn I rest quiet hands on my hips,

look out at the field into the shimmering morning

and wait for the warmth of the light

like I do every day.



This body wakes to the radiant invitation,

like a lover waiting to take me

onto the dance floor

and play with the music;

forgetting myself in the movement.



The birds, delighted

slip from the sky

onto branches,

to the feeder,

and back to the sky

with all the magic

God has given them.



It is impossible not to open my voice

and sing along with the wind

that carries these feathered sisters

from their nests and their babies

long enough to nourish their souls

with flight and water.



Prayers have lifted from all our hearts

as simply as spreading the holy wings

of angels who teach us to fly.