song of the white dove
the white dove came again.
i love how she sits far
back
in the black, tangled
branches
of that wild oak tree –
she glows through the
falling darkness,
a phantom of herself….
she used to frighten me,
appearing unannounced
at nightfall….
you’re not from around here, are you?
i thought at her,
that first night….
i’ve tried to make up all
kinds of stories
about why she visits when
she does….
a harbinger of death?
of change?
but every day changes and
dies,
as do we….
her song differs from
those of the mourning doves
that have surrounded me
since birth –
(my father taught me their
song)
softer than theirs,
her song floats
featherlike,
unmournful….
it curls
wispy
tender
wraithlike
(holy….)
we have watched each other
for years now….
through black ash
and endless smoky grey –
we are dual-captured
by blue-white
myriad starfields --
(our secret)
and still,
her song stops me midstep
midbreath
midquestion --
like an incognito
gasp of surprise….
then i recall an elder’s
words
and realize:
she sings
not as a warning of death,
but as an
encouragement
to keep dying….
©2017 song of the white dove by Beth Anne Boardman for mythopoetry.com
©2017 song of the white dove Beth Anne Boardman All Rights Retained
©2017 song of the white dove by Beth Anne Boardman for mythopoetry.com
©2017 song of the white dove Beth Anne Boardman All Rights Retained
_____________
NOTES
The last two lines recall the
wisdom of Chungliang al Huang, who appears in Finding Joe,
a film by Patrick Takaya Solomon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Beth Anne Boardman, RN, MA, PhD lives in California and New Hampshire. She travels and lectures on the Mythology of Sport; Women and Myth; and the Alchemy of Adolescence (her dissertation topic), in addition to consulting as a writer to websites.
Recently, Beth has served on the board of the Pacifica Graduate Institute Alumni Association and as Regional Coordinator for local alumni. Her career spans work as a registered nurse, the study of world dance and music, and the profound joy of raising two children.
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