Rhythms of Life

a sunny day in late March
 on a walk down our trail
  watching birds journey high
   into afternoon blue sky
    counting forty maybe more
     ribbon-like fly formation
      silver white cut silhouettes
       glide from east to northwest
         every spring on same route
          from New Jersey ocean shore
           on to far Canadian Arctic
            half way to their home target
             great White Tundra swans
               drop for rest near Shiocton
                pecking out dinner meals
                near two weeks in farm fields
                  like swallows to Capistrano
                   people thirst for assurance
                    how mother nature delights
                     with bold rhythms of life
                    now what if only we could
                   hold fast when our time
                 cling tight to heaven's gate
                 for that nod of approval
               to return each March date.