Amidst the Birds

Timeless

skin leathered by twice ten thousand suns

insufficient flesh to fill their rags

they stand, arms outstretched

against the sky

towards the sky

in fields and graying city squares

the whirling birds their only companions

 

We hardly pause to notice them

they fade, depart, return

who knows

what hardness lies inside

yet in a stark sun-blistered noon

or nights when storm or snow

reveals their frames

we discern half hidden their essential form

 

the cross

that points to dusk and dawn

to earth and heaven

to the human

to the sacred

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© Johnmichael Simon

2006

.