Wednesday, May 07, 2008

First Oriole Poem
The Bird, The Myth

First Oriole

In the midway of my prayer,
I turned to mind an oriole
at large, or rather felt its orange

energy this morning, love
supreme returned from somewhere well-
preserved, a paradise deep down

and toward some wakeful yawning where
the heart still grows on trees and gold
holds just the color of the dawn.

~Son Rivers 2008

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