wingspan

wandering seabird,
holding in place
over seas and seas
carried up and away
over seas and seas,
straying far inland
the horizons recede
and retreat for days

as she lays her advance
upon sleeping wing,
barely motionless
while the twilights pass
and the stars change guard
over seas and seas
see her wandering far
as if instinct leads
over rippled glass,
blown in coloured sun

I have not begun,
though I felt the call
like a dot, a speck
craning neck, squint eye
with a hand to shade,
I can see you fly
on your pilgrimage -
as I scan the sky,
you will never fall.

and sometimes I wish
I could ride those rills
in the piercing air,
let my eye take fill
of unrolling lands
and devour the world
with wing and care

other times, though, I think
I would rather keep place
set for you to come in,
once you've lapped the race,
and slake your thirst
and renew your strength,
rest your head and dream
of inconsequence.

And if I were a place
where your instinct led,
that your homing called home,
over seas and seas
I would wait on wings
with your empty place set
calm and ready for you,
and for everything.

you can only stay up
so long, godspeed
you will come to berth,
after trackless trek -
stretch your arms so wide,
little albatross,
and wrap your wingspan
around my neck