“eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.”

-norman maclean

I  bend and stoop extending outward

reaching upward in search of space

but I am root-bound and so soft inside.

I need  someone to guide me.

A wild bird whose granite feathers span a pagan forest.

Take me with you above the soaring  sea hawk,

across the murmuring waves, your wings full of wind,

take me over and far beyond the lofty clouds.

Sheila Brown art “bird over the sea”