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canadian geese honking overhead
                     ravi shankar in my head
                               pandora's box
The geese are a honking loose thread across the sky. I can hear them in my wicker chair like they're sitting right next to me and I think their voices carry at least as far above as down below. So loud. The sound of changing seasons on the wing. You'd think a goose-whisper would be enough to keep their conversation going, but no. I need to hear them in my wicker chair too, apparently. I kinda like that. Maybe they are talking to me. Maybe their sounds are like street-songs for strangers, or God-praise, or apple pie cooling on a neighbor's window. Maybe they made something really pretty in their hearts, and it's so big they can't keep it down their noodle-necks anymore. And so they're singing it out, for the whole world to see, like a big grin, and it's just perfect that I hear it in my wicker chair, it makes it even better, and that's why they're so loud. It could be.
blake Mar 1
geese                                                                soar
    as if                                                        they
         have                                          nothing
              to wor                       ry  about
                      they                  just
                          fly              in
                            the     shape
                                of  a
Johnny walker Feb 25
I love see dawns earley light breaking over the hills at the back of my home its just like a canopy slowly being drawn
back to reveal
the lighting
The sound geese across the early morning
sky cellobrate  having made though the night to another glorious
To watch the sun rising In a beautiful summers
sky makes  one feel alive reborn free at last from the winter chills long since forgotten with the warmth of the
Then to sit In evening to catch to the return of the wild geese and to watch the sun go down Down on another beautiful
To witness dawns early light to hear the sound or approaching wild geese to see the sun rising on another beautiful
Manan sheel Jan 15
Looking at the world with new eyes,
today, when I left my home,
I saw a group of geese, flying
in unbelievable symmetry,
with tremendous grace,

My eyes were free of their dirt,
they were clean and beautiful,
and had the capacity to love
whoever they set themselves upon.
And maybe, I was gifted this scene
by god, for the love in my eyes...

© Manan sheel.
I love to see the flight of wild geese aross the morning skies you have
to be very lucky to catch them
but when you do Its an amazing site to see
flying In formation of cause If you're realy lucky you may catch them on there flight
believe It or not I havent seen there flight many times 65 years I lived so
far but when I do It Joy to see
Flight of wild geese across the morning sky wonderful sight to see
I have not always been good.
I have been punished for the smallest mistake
and shown more forgiveness than I deserve.
I have been softer and more vulnerable
than I have been in a very long time
and had my heart ripped out because of it.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the purest water trickles
from a Highland stream and into a tap, far away,
and where I am not.
You are right; I am lonely.
It enfolds me like a cloak, billowing in the wind.
Meanwhile the wild geese are beginning to fly south
and I must head for the north.
When we pass each other, in our flight,
I will smile and nod to them on their way.
They have all that they need
and I am still searching.
A response to one of my favourite ever poems, Wild Geese by Mary Oliver. It's about living the city I called my home for five years and moving on, not knowing what to do, but trying to take the advice she gives in her poem.
Salmabanu Hatim May 2018
Golden autumn,
Harmonious autum,
Delicious autumn,
Beautiful autumn,
Graceful autumn.
Colourful autumn leaves fall,
Red, green,brown and gold,
In showers ,
Over little flowers,
A carpet hue,
Moistened by  misty dew.
Unmistakable autumn sounds,
Do their rounds,
Crisp leaves along the street,
Rustle beneath the feet.
A gaggle of migrating geese,
Flock the lustrous sky in bliss.
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