From Jacqueline Mai.

The Silent Dance

Grey, fast moving sky,
Dense blanket clouds, tearing,
Releasing gold patches
From the clear sky above.
And in the turbulence,
In its dips and hollows,
Seabirds crest the thermal waves
Riding the wind,
Weaving a silent dance
In an empty sky,
Secretly, just for me,
Alone outdoors.
Beyond the birds, clouds gather thick grey
But westward the sky is torn into rags
As the wind pushes the cover inland
Tearing the mantle from the sea.
The birds, sheltering,
Follow the clouds landwards
Safe from the chill
Of open sea air
And in their passage
Below the clouds
They dance for me,
Circling my head like a blessing.

In an empty sky
Their silent dance
Tells ancient tales
Of their journeys with the wind.
They do not mew, peacock like
In their seabird voice.
The dance is silent, invisible
Except to me who, looking skyward
On a grey and windy day
To watch the racing clouds
Finds instead
The dance of the birds.

©Jacqueline Mai 2007

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