Again you visit me –
Reminding me of the bright light
cast by night stars, and the wings
I chose to plant in the earth.
Ignoring their weight on my shoulders,
I could have spread them hawk-like
and lifted, lifted high above the womb
that holds me.

A blood line runs through
the roots of the birch trees.
Where black and white merge in
companionship. Where all lives
in harmony. Where peace exists.

I dig deep to trace the blood line
of my beginnings. Someone with
brown eyes is my ancestor. Eyes
as brown and dark as the soil
I planted my wings in.