Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 48:

Crocheting and a walk to High Point with my love.

Shifting
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

In Our Lady’s Garden,
tall birds strut and bow,
ravens call from high in the branches of an old oak tree,
a deer steps out from the brambles,
a long green snake winds its way through the grasses,
and a ladybug redder than a drop of blood takes wing.
An owl calls from deep in the shadowed forest.

Here you feel your grandmothers’ eyes upon you,
you hear your name in the breeze 
that rattle the branches of the witch hazel,
and the scent of roses surrounds you.

You could take on any shape you choose.
Any word will transport you.
Any fluttering leaf could become a wing.

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