Owl, Hawk, and Heron—
Benevolent messengers—
Fly with me to the mild woods,
The welcoming leaves and flowers
Along a Pleasant Mountain trail;
In a clearing I find Brother Simon,
A friend I knew in Italy;
We dance holding hands;
Francis and Clare make the circle four,
And songbirds rest on our shoulders.
As we dance, our numbers grow
Until all the world’s people sway on the melody,
The harmony,
While the Earth spins in our circle’s center.
Above us, the Sun waltzes with the Moon;
Our dear ones in spirit smile in witness.
Alone again, Simon and I hug in comradely caring,
Tearful but comforted.
And then Simon, too, is gone;
Lifted into trance on the drumbeat,
I remain with everyone.
