totem

does the bird ,

as it perches on top of the tree,

know the majesty in that figure

bent forward to hold the breath

that awakens its song and my sight?

maybe the bird sings

more than I can see

for when I point my eyes

on the form I once beheld,

I capture unfamiliar returns,

the blurring of the features 

that shaped a single instant

as if in it colours were free

to play with their illusions

before the breath is replaced

by the shadow covering iris joy

in nouns of known substances.

maybe the bird holds the secret

of the silent tree that many views 

and wonders has lowered to hear

stooping to not half answer

to give to the perched bird

the piercing song grasping sights 

in the claws of invisible answers.