My new collection of poems
about birding and the spiritual life:
WHAT NEVER FAILS
We went to the water
to see the Pelican –
the one, they say, who stabs her breast
and feeds her young with blood (like Christ),
but there was no bird like that
on the little islands by the pier.
There were Western Gulls instead,
crying out like Alcyone for Ceys,
flying over us like the ragged mists
of dreams we dream at dawn
and, waking, find
have told us the truth.
We were standing close together, just above
the water, like the Light Princess and her Prince,
when I noticed the cliff swallows
darting over the waves, under the pier
where they have hidden their nests
and are feeding the future
with a constant love
that never fails.