While Watching The Birds Fly South For W. S. Merwin Poem by r james sterzinger

While Watching the Birds Fly South
for W. S. Merwin


1. to be
that and that alone
the lone bird who flies
over a palate of god-painted
landscape
whose music is the songs
of mourning whose rhythms
are the voice and the creation
of the winds
of the god
of the angels.

2. that for me would be enough

3. oh, to be a bird
rather than this human skin- bag
this unpredictable soul
who it is claimed
will die will rise
from the dead.

4. just to die, then disappear to a powder
to a dust, the only thing left
a jeweler's box of hollowed bones
that embraces the wetness of earth
in the shallowest of graves.

5. like the stones on a beautiful necklace
that circles the breast of earth
as the pearls that you will wear
when you will still be beautiful
and me, I will be no longer around
my moment, time will have filched away.

6. death and flying are the greatest
of arts the greatest
of masteries.

7. I will not speak of love
its belief and hope and masteries
which once were a warming fire
are now a kindling's ash
that doesn't waste its measure
on the color of a crow.

8. once when young I listened intently
to a flock of geese who were lost
on an October's night
their calls greased the night
with loneliness.

9. a reminder's moment
that parallels all memories now
of love of loss
of the darkness of night
of birds winging south
for warmer climes.

10. I pack my books of poetry
in boxes now
for a move
to a place of my own
I stop my work for a moment.
Autumn geese again flying overhead
crying out seeking direction

11. like anguished prayers
of a crucified God.