You Are The Wind Beneath My Wings

For my Partner in Pink

feather

A beautiful Sand crane was standing on a wire looking down into my porch when she waved her wings at me.
I said, “Hey, come on down here and visit.”
She didn’t fly down to me, so I assumed that she didn’t have much to say.
She simply stood on one leg and waved her  impressive, white wings.
She stared at me for a long while, until I began to wonder if maybe she was my mother.
Yes, I believe that our deceased loved ones can visit us, in numerous forms.
I sat watching her and I was entranced by her grace as she balanced on one foot.
Then, she lifted her wings and let the wind gently flow beneath them, moving like a ballerina on a tight rope, a dance so beautiful to behold.
Now I know why someone wrote the song, “You Are The Wind Beneath My Wings” because that’s exactly what she needed to touch the sky.
When the wind had lifted her wings sufficiently, she bounced on her feet and lifted off, a precious free spirit with wings that could carry her up, up into the clouds.
When I went out in the yard, a single white feather blew by my feet. I bent over to pick it up and brought it in the house.
I gave it a home in a glass mug, home to dozens of feathers from other visitors.