The Cardinal’s Lament

When his spirit departed, I dashed outdoors to witness the world. I needed to know how it would or would not be. I stood on the hilltop and looked beyond the lake at the rolling pumpkin clouds. The imprint of the wind on the water rippled and swirled in an instant and then stopped abruptly, dissolving into an ancient memory.

The night – patient and polite – had waited long enough. With tight-fisted buds, the trees waved in the diminishing wind one last time. Velvety shadows wrapped safely around the bluish gray mountain range – a maiden’s silhouette.

It was more than tranquil. Everything sighed except for you. Your song resonated urgently into the dusk. Despair and grief abandoned my heart as I caught sight of your brilliance from within quiet branches.

Your lament was reassurance. I was woken by the purity of your song; it remains. Your boldness captures my eye, leaving mourning to the doves.

Since then I have seen you when it is best to see you, as I did today. There is no need to speak in my dreams. All words were spoken. The birdsong sustains infinite love.

From Journal - Babies Breath


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