Perchings

I would, it were, I was a bee
Or some might filled plutonian fowl
I do not know where I will end
Or if this traveling’s been well
I cannot see the end of journey
Here among the clouded skies
I cannot hear or think more clearly
With these tear-filled cloudy eyes
 
The wind is blowing fast now faster
Clinging to these wings outstretched
The baritone of rolling thunder
Echoing thought hollow chest
And if it rains, might that then portend
Deeper questions of this flight
Rain to sleet and ice then commend
Less to me than death to life

A perch I spy with hawkish gazing
Out upon the rolling tide
Upon a great body of water
ripping roaring there beside
and on that perch, I’ve made a nesting
deeply I have found a home
and some may call it chance protesting
others know it as shalom

Nesting netting ever guarding
My watch upon this water way
be it cold and sleeting winter
or the mid-season summer day
I’ve stood the post to which I’m guarding
Wave and storm have brought me here
I know not yet how long its lasting
Or if replacement bird be near

I only know thru years of storming’s
Peaceful evenings, quiet land
Was not the task assigned in mourning
Mourners work required these hands
And when the final prayers been uttered
Final traveler been led
The water still beneath these talons
Will receive its honored dead
Among the casualties of living
All among us once will be
But the peacefully forgotten
Are those who observe duty
Dutifully Ill sink more deeply
That the depths I’d see in life
Than the deepest question ask’ed
In questioning filled years of strife
And in that deeply pool of floating
I will know what flight can’t teach
Perching years upon a nesting
With answers always just beneath