This One Unrepeatable Morning

Dan Aman Photography

from The Heart of Vancouver Island

I look hard

at this once-only,

never to be repeated morning:

clouds wisping mistily over the Beauforts,

fog  dreamily swirling among the trees

and across the pasture,

(spirits, carrying their secrets into the forest.)

I can almost - or am I dreaming? -

hear wolfsong faintly calling from the mountains,

my black wolf, whose spirit roams their slopes.

He misses me.

For solace, I look into the deep, kind eyes,

as old as Soul itself,

of a thirty year old horse,

her nose whuffing a soft greeting 

this grey morning,

when everything is on its way

to spring.

The juncos and the jays are at the feeder

and lately, I've been hearing an eagle's cry

from across the road.

She must have a nest near,

but she remains elusive.

One day she will reveal herself,

when I am worthy,

and maybe she will drop one feather 

down to me.

I breathe in the ground, stirring to life again,

in endless cycle,

smile to encourage the daffodils, 

inching their way ever closer to blossoming.

This one moment, blessed, peaceful,

lifted up,

a moment of life traded, stored,

acknowledged, by a heart old enough

to recognize its blessings.