Sign/Sing {a poem}

This morning, black ice underfoot
an invisible threat to stability
and momentum alike, asking
(a perennial prayer
of please help me remember)
the unseen to send me a sign
of presence, protection and perhaps
most of all, perspective
on what's mine and what's not,
a different kind of slick that can take me
out if I don't slow down.

And just then, a singular song
arose from the thirsty treetops
and another, further, echoed back
while I stood there eavesdropping,
my heart a simultaneous translator
speaking back to me in a language
I would understand.

Here, once again, a new season
in the process of arriving.
Here, once again, comes the time
to let go.