BREATHING ROOM

The stars call to me

The stars call to me
I stand
listening across the fields
awakened by a dream
Owls hoot back and forth
Primal sounds fill the darkness
So much awake and alive
Distant cries of loons
seeking each other
Ancient wisdom sounding
in all directions
A cacophony
The moon hides from the sun
A satellite silently moves across the sky
A quiet intermission
soaks my soul
My bones sing in recognition
So much held in the darkness
So much glittering shining light
So many calls
My heart too
My longing too
A shooting star

by Patrice Borst Ficken
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