Fallen

I have fallen in love with the barren trees

Leaving me an unfettered view of the birds.

Sitting on the Naked Branches and singing

Their voices sound clearer without the leaves surrounding and softening their songs.

I hear ghosts long gone from this earth.

When the trees are full and green is everywhere

I can only see the birds in my mind.

Are these phantom sounds seeping through the foliage?

The songs of lost loved ones reaching back to comfort me?

Is my mother a Ruby-throated humming bird, my father a sparrow, and my aunt a meadowlark?

Summer's warm air and thick foliage act as a fortress through which I cannot see.

In the fall the Truth appears clear as the cool blue sky returns.

The birds, their voices, their beauty in stillness staring back at me as I walk on the fallen leaves.

I am strangely aware these birds are the lost pieces of my soul.

The trees rooted into the earth where my loved ones have been encased for eternity, a resting place.

The earth is the source for the trees just as my mother was the source for me, and now they are one in the same.

Soon winter winds will blow the birds far from my ears and eyes.

I lay on top of her grave trying to feel closer to her and the earth.

The ground seals in my sorrow as I cry,

Listening to the birds bringing their last songs before heading south.

An Encore as another season slips by and my soul seems unearthed.