Photo credit: Louise Hastings
When I woke this morning,
not really awake,
paddling along the surface
of a dream like a swan,
I thought this must be
what a soul is like,
always there
but hidden on the other side of dark.
I could be the wind or trees
or a bird under starlight
or the ripples on the lake,
but I’m not me
until your currents lift me
and I rise into air.
©2013 Louise Hastings
Image credit: Louise Hastings
Last night
a gust of stars
in February wind
Photo credit: Louise Hastings
Beyond these hills in a darkening sky
the wind blows in a gust of stars
and I dream of flying, stepping off
this plinth of stone, to stretch my wings
and fly like the birds do, in wind and sun,
over earth and trees. I searched for this
wild place, became its guardian, watched
it change as I changed, my legs, my arms,
my face; I looked upon them like they were new
to me, all the cracks and storm-blown parts
belong to me as I stand alone among these empty
hours, waiting for the sunrise, the shaft of orange light
that brought me warmth and hope
before I heard the music and caught the fire.
Copyright @Louise Hastings 2013
Wings Over Waters 