Looking both ways:
the birds that are leaving,
the birds that are coming;
like her horse her birds
are now here, now there,
near and far, faint yet resounding
to those that hear them.
Rhiannon, the distant presence
of your birds still singing
in time and space between,
at the year’s ending
at the year’s beginning,
chimes in harmony
with the heart’s song
where you are present
the winter long.
Rigantona 