First Call of a Redwing

by Nicholas Dykes

It was only a rusty redwing
mulling among old brown reeds,
but his cautious, throaty music
was the first bright chord of spring.

And in a flash my godly soul
flew up away forever,
all vestige of its guileful face
vanishing, traceless, into space.

And life was suddenly glorious,
drenched with colours and light,
for I was the runner in my blood,
my precious mind its flight.