Olympiads of birds
and butterfly migrations,
have a safe journey!
Planted among seasons,
migrations of stars.
I fly backward and forward
in the wishing well
where poems and destinies
leave their faces.
We all began in the nucleus
of the sea,
drowned in the tides,
the cosmos thrashing in the waves,
the marching band of storms.
Then we see in some estuary,
dark streets luring us,
to build our lives village by village,
wing by wing,
leg by leg,
until even dreams are captured
in our arms,
in the coming and going
of our migrations
to the end of our journeys.