Here on the shore of Highwind Lake
I dream away, hardly awake
I sit and wait for a call from the loon
Wait a bit more; she’ll call very soon.
The fire is burning and I am learning
The secret of peace with gentle turning
Away from the rush of yesterday’s city
Here to the shore and a songbird’s ditty.
Cardinals call, a killdeer, a wren
Why when I wait won’t the loon call again?
She had no name when she broke her wing
She could not fly and she dared not sing
Flightless and muted she waited to die
When all at once someone strange passed by
Out of the dark he came one night
From the nether beyond he flew into sight
A phantom feather, a ghost-written song
Touched her wing, then sped along.
Fast as he came he sped away
Into the night beyond the bay.
The loon sensed his touch as mists rose at dawn
She laughed out loud at a speckled fawn.
She flexed her wing – it was mended you see
So she swam from shore on the water with glee
She swam from that place and flew evermore
Beyond the bay to a distant shore.
I sit on the shore waiting to hear
I did not know she would disappear
She flew away beyond the bay
While I just sit alone this way.
Written at Highland Lake in June of 1991
Newly significant February 29, 2004