Hurtled from high Blamanen by Bergen

to this resting-field at my door, 

where they catch breath for the next flight.

I see them not feeding, not zig-zag stepping,

but breathing in and out, 

chests nestled into the ground,

downy maps of their world which cover

a hundred hearts, thumb-tip big.

Each feather trembles, their eyes spark.

The whole machine of them pulses, whirrs.

Bernadette would have knelt at the sight.

Drostan and Treduana watch them 

in curtained prayer time.

Oh those folded wings, scaled legs drawn under. 

This respite, this pause, air for air, light for light.

* the names refer to: 

   Saint Bernadette of Lourdes 

   Saint Treduana/ Tredwell an early Scottish saint 

   Saint Drostan a companion of Columba

Header Image Credit: Polly Pullar