I saw them coming,
A display of wondrous white balloons.
My anticipation stepped up,
Like a child, for the floating sound of a far off marching band.
They were before me.
White-haired puffs –
Fair mothers, every one of them,
Rhythmically marching on a current air.
Ancient majorettes traveling festively,
Twirling their batons
And alluding to cartwheels.
Each a soft note in showy song
That made up a mystical show.
Covered down and dressed right,
Descending some ancient world.
We were ridiculously charmed.
Hypnotized as we stood facing the sun,
Palms lifted high with the desire to touch one of those sacred feathers.
Our jaws fell open like peasants bowing to an esteemed troop.
We were inflated with joy.
A swell of them billowed past me,
Ghosts with soft, silky white plumes
Belly full and swelled up with life.
Their ceremonial movement
Paraded right through me.
The dandy strangers parachute to the ground
And disappear, as if they’d never emerged
From the sacred loins of the Cottonwood tree.
Tami Satterfield, MSW, LCSW-C, NBCCH, HTP is a licensed psychotherapist who practices solution-oriented healing from a deep ecological perspective. Her specialities include hypnosis for anxiety, performance, and creativity. Sessions on-line or in Boulder, Colorado include cutting edge brain therapies that will change the way you think. Learn more at attentiontoliving.com