Purple Martins

for a few moments

after the fledge

the only purpose

of their tapered wings

is freedom

filling the lower sky

with joy

unfettered acrobatics 

amazing grace

swooping banking

testing contours of the breeze

touching textures of the air

parting

gathering

chattering under eaves

on rails

at the low end

of slanting roofs

above the grandest house

the chorus chirps

from breast to heart

from feather tips

through pointed beaks

with eyes always on

the summoning horizon

a brief rehearsal

before a long migration

your feet are rooted now

in tired clay

in once fertile soil

so it’s not odd

their chipper notes

should suggest to

your aching wanderlust

that you embrace the quest

give flight another shot

the journey where some

die along the way

where others

do not make it

safely to the end

swallows seem with

each passing summer

to summon you

to their hard pumping days

their unsafe nights

you ponder alone

in the morning fog

while waiting for the sun

to have its way

if soaring above

might be a better choice

puzzle over why

you refuse to find

the courage to rise

above clouds to go let go and then

one day perhaps return

to sing and weave another nest

for a brief interval before you rest