Photo by Sandi Mager on Unsplash

Blue Jay, landing from the top of the pine
spread wing and tail feathers wide.

against the glossy needles and
touched by early sun become
a blaze of white fire whose shape might be some
ancient emblem.

I don’t dwell there, get lost in fire
that disappears as Jay reaches the feeder.
Now I stare at the pine, seeing that
glowing bird.
It becomes garden wide, wants to grow wider,
its wings have captured my eternity.

I must un-visit my illusion.