Yes I do

The truth is I do not believe

     in magic, 

miracles, 

ghosts, souls--

      all that jazz.  

Yet when a hundred herons 

     sitting still 

on the edge of the shore 

      suddenly rise as one 

in a blur of down moving 

      in slow, slow beats 

blocking sky in their storm 

      of snow,  

I do, yes, 

yes I do 

     sense wings move in me.

I do 

     feel a swooping down 

from clifftops.

I do

      feel my body in that updraft 

soaring 

      toward the moon 

and what is left

      of me 

on this empty beach 

      is but a tiny cloud,

a mere idea

     on which good fortune dusts 

a sweet, sweet down.