In open sky I wheel across the silvery
blue against captivity, almost weightless
on warming air my substance that of light
grounded things only know through shadow.
And you may hear a single curling mew
as I climb toward an unfiltered sun
to find myself in a spiral of oblivios joy
my power the act of knowing when
where and how I reacquaint this body
with the rooted world again, back amongst
the demented crows in agonised oaks,
the blood soaked roadkills, the wondrous mess
of earth and you rapt I leave behind.