Awaken the Dreamers--a poem for the solstice

Awaken the Dreamers

 

One blue heron late in December

dreaming the sun down. One egret

walking into deeper water, rippling

the gray pearl of the pond

lit by a low sun moving across the marsh

on the even breaths

of these two birds.

I remembered the way

my grandmother said calmfortable,

the sound thick and slow as the Ohio

rolling through Marietta; photos

of a great flood one spring, young folks

paddling canoes down streets

rolling back to the river. Maybe

we can cross on that one, long syllable

into our own stillness, be calm,

be generous with our words,

roll them in our mouths

back to the source of the river

where the invisible rejoices

to come into this world.

Fill them again

with the sound of rolling water

and the wind that ruffles the feathers of the heron

deep in a dream of its own, watching tides

come and go with the moon as the earth

turns, longing for a way to say

how beautiful.