She’s hunting in the language of her birth,
encompassing the landscape with a view
to catch the drama of the rolling earth,
the heat of rampant life, its form and hue.
Invoking wings for ankles made of clay,
detecting roots of fundamental might
to anchor her and balance her today,
she tosses nets of gossamer in flight
that she will use to pause the fairie phrase,
alight to sense it, borrow it for song,
reverberating as it soundly plays
and measuring the whispered with the strong.
Ecstatic is the hunter of the heard
among us, resonant with perfect word.