Saying this is like speaking to the wind
As if it will carry my voice to your ear
its hush as I say your name
or like you hearing my words
in a bird's song
the whistle of notes a perfect melody
and still I dream it
still I wake to voice you
to say those words
However wide the worlds
that breath blows in
it travels
across rocks, oceans,
wide plains of grass
your name echoed
a thousand times
in the leaves of wheat
in the sinking whoosh of the sunset
Hear the voice
calling out
calling you home
stand in this place and hear me
All the world stops
What reaches my waiting ear,
the sound of my own name.

By the Corbyhawk herself

Perseverance
that word fell
from your tongue
as if they had seen inside
from me to you
how little we know
of knowing
and our wisdom stands
wringing her idle hands
calling herself aged.

-in Honor of the Peregrine who has flown from this world
by the Corby

Bird I should have flown driven, walked, crawled
back to my beloved's door
to sit upon the threshold and sing a hundred songs of love
I sent you in my stead
fearing the loss of everything
sitting on the path my beloved had crossed

Your song did not reach the ear
the light bounded out of the windows
reflecting you
my memory washed away
my beloved mourning me gone
Bird no sweetness could pierce the heart
as one word falling from my beloved's tongue
Diving in midair only to be caught again
rising above breathed into my dreams
I lay at the doorway one hundred thousand prayers
I utter the wind that carries you.

 -goodbye sweet Cernunnos by the Corbyhawk herself

To make yourself unavailable is to make yourself eventually unnecessary.

Home

Discouraging being home, like the wind is suddenly out of my sails. I feel uncreative and I just miss the freedom of being gone. Now I am home and restless... I need some kind of change in a positive way, not that things are bad. They are tepid and I have a desire to stir up the pot. Pull anchor and go see if I can find you because I miss all that....