I’m thinking today about Dad, oddly. It’s a day for celebrating the return of life, of resurrection, of hope an promise in the face of inevitable death. For so long, I was angry at him, thought of him as everything that I had to fight against to save my life, to be independent and free. But I realize now that it could have been a hell of a lot worse.
A flash of red in the backyard --
weaving through the cedar --
the cardinal who chose the tree
for his home
back for the season.
Harbinger of hope,
comfort, messages from
those we've loved
breaking through the veil
to reach us again,
or the blood
of Christ on this
bright Easter morning,
signal of sure renewal,
transformation,
new beginnings,
energy, passion,
monogamy,
the bright bird
wears our projections with
courageous indifference,
stitching
invisible strings
maple to cedar to
flowering pear,
singing liquid
and clear,
calling his mate: I
choose you I
choose you I
choose you
