High
Above the conifer plantation
With its shadow dark heart
And high above the wide meadow
Where the golden pheasant foraged
Last time I came this way.

High
Hang two buzzards
Riding the gentle air.

I open out my seeing
Till it’s wider than the sky
And the buzzards soar
In the open space
That is me.

I choose one of them.
She flies in the expanse of my wide vision
Then I let this exquisite sensing
Drop into the awareness of my heart.
An unthought knowing
Wide as the endless blue.

Each wing flap
One, two, three, four
Then the strong, still glide
I feel
In the big field of my heart sight.

Each wing beat
And glide
Ripples me
As it ripples the high, wide air.

I tilt and move with the bird.
She flies me.

I close my eyes
To see if I can follow
The bird’s movements
Without sight
But I quickly lose her.

I find her again
Then move off up the road
Still she soars in the expanse of my heart

Till a roadside stream
Distracts me
And she is gone
And I don’t notice the moment of her going.