Successive Autumns

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geesesouth

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Delicious autumn!
My very soul is wedded to it,
and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth
seeking the successive autumns.
~ George Eliot

These mornings are a din of calls
and breathy rush
of beating wings overhead,
a migration to something
that isn’t here
but beyond.
Such restlessness isn’t just in the air
but in this heart’s longing
for something more,
for somewhere else,
for somehow settled,
for somewhat remembered,
for Someone who leads the way,
calling us back home.

morningswans

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murmur3