Transitions

by Robyn Birchleaf

03Jan12

Between the spokes of the wheel
I feel the turning
Each moment of the sun’s gentle passage
Through the trails of my day

I hear your whispers in my ear
Coyote and Crow
I know that each cycle of the Sun
Brings the transitions of which you speak

I hear your wings, Brother Crow
As you follow in the air
I hear the pad of your feet, Brother Coyote
As you track along the terrain

Both of you haunt my steps
Many speak ill of your coming
But I know what you signify on my Path
For each cycle of the Wheel brings Transition
…and you bring Mediation for that change