Passing through

In this uncertain human season,
I sometimes shiver with despair,
And yet today, a cold dark dawn,
A flock of migrants burst through
Mist, winged flames of orange,
Yellows, blue, to set the flowering
Trees alight; warblers, buntings,
Orioles, like prayer flags flying,
They flit and feast, God’s table
Spread for all who come, diverse,
Resplendent, passing through,
This host of pilgrims here–now–
Gone.