Sounds of 20,000-year-old songs
Echo across the Platte River
Created by a magical majesty
Of migrating Sandhill cranes
Vibrant colors against the setting sun
Floating wings outstretched
Delicate bodies
Landing to feast in Nebraska fields
Resting in a community of thousands
Refueling for the morning flight
Were I not human
But a wisp of wind
To fly among the wings of cranes
In a journey of discovery
Restoring my soul

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