fly
each year the same as the seasons recede
autumn to winter like colours that bleed
dark nights and cold days will make us concede
the time has arrived now when they must go home
fly away home, fly away home
birds now are gathering to fly away home
fly away home, fly away home
birds now are gathering to fly away home
excerpt from “fly”
“Let those who have ears, hear!” a teacher once said.
But not everyone does.
Not everyone who has ears hears that which is only hinted at. Not everyone who has eyes sees beyond the dry predictability of our days. Not everyone who feels experiences the one from whom the touch comes.
Perhaps he just looked like another dog-walker. Wandering along the pebbled-beach, trying not to get blown over by northerly winds. Distracted momentarily by the geese overhead looking for land.
Fly away home, fly away home. A song was forming in his mind as he walked. Fly away home, fly away home. Birds now are gathering to fly away home…
Let those who have ears…
He heard it. In the call of the wild, he heard it. The gift of our being. Our need for home.
Hear, those who have ears.
This is such a beautiful, atmospheric song…. driving to work, earlier in the week, as I turned the ben beyond Loch Lomond, the sun was beginning to rise above the clouds, bathing the country-side in golden mellowness. Suddenly, up in the sky , geese flew over-head, forming into their “V” formation – a sight of wonder. My heart filled with joy, as at that precise moment the geese flew over-head “Fly” came on “However Far” CD. Perhaps a little sign that all is well. Perhaps home is where our heart is…..