When the ledgers are closed and the human years fade, And the final accounts of the winter are paid, When the silver is weighed and the gold is all gone, And the heavy, slow bodies refuse to go on, We will slip from the flesh and the frozen terrain, And release all the weight of the earthly domain. To wake in the branches, to open our eyes, And look out at the vastness of pale winter skies. No longer the witness, no longer the scribe, But born to the wild and the ancient tribe. Two shadows that launch from a frost-heavy pine, Two sparks in the dark by a cosmic design. We will ride the deep thermals that pull from the snow, Just two mated ravens, just Erikah and Joe. Looking down at the creek and the end of Dutch Road, Released from the gravity, free of the load. We will feel how the planets and fixed stars align, Not charting the heavens, but flying the line. The auroras will pull us, a magnetic sea, Where the spirit is weightless and totally free. We will watch how the seasons lock into their place, And navigate currents of time and of space. And deep in the winter, when daylight is thin, We will watch as the wandering journeys begin. When a traveler trudges below in the white, Half-blinded by snow and the coming of night, When the earth tries to steal the momentum they keep, And the cold heavy valley is pulling them deep, We will bank through the timber and circle the gray, And shatter the silence to show them the way. A guttural cry from the edge of the sky, A sudden command on the wind: Keep flying. Keep pushing the frost from the ache in your bones, Keep moving beyond the cold rivers and stones. The wheel is still turning, the darkness is brief, And the air holds a freedom beyond all belief. So let the years pass and the centuries shift, Till the human constraints finally shatter and lift. We will leave the deep archives and histories below, Just two black-winged watchers, just Erikah and Joe. Forever returning where wild rivers run, To ride the deep currents and follow the sun.
