INVOCATION

INVOCATION

My fingers tremble as I lift her,

Just a whisper of shell-bone and feather,

Stilled by a false horizon in wild autumn weather.

I tell her I am Caladrius, come to carry her to the sun,

I speak of Rhiannon and her birds,

Singing the dead back from their dreams,

I read her tales from the Mabinogion,

Spoken in the language of heaven.

She stirs, in dreams of wind and rain,

Clouds and trees, of springtime blossom to come again.

I tell her you were a midnight storm that never passed

As I sing her back to the sky.