So I took a promise to myself that I would write a poem a day. I didn’t say for how long. I did it for at least 10 days but today when I went to retrieve all these marvelous poems, guess what, only three days remained. So much for believing my Mac will save everything (or maybe it is just that I don’t know how to retrieve them). I shall find out. But here are the first three days. Why? Because… I want to engage your venue (or avenue), of the best creativity. This is a poem (or series of them)… about my hawk… a hawk and the power of the Crow family…
What a massive onslaught they came for you, my beauty
They came for you
They swarmed outside my window
raucous and black
Chanting your name my dear one
saying you had to move on.
Descending hoards they peppered the tree
giving the illusion of foliage, luminescent black foliage
Then as if by Divine instruction they arose, swarmed, circled
descended once again.
Over and over they put on such a show
truly unsurpassed in my 66 years
the choreography sublime
meant to be menacing.
I wondered how you felt?
Would it make you leave?
Would they make you leave?
Oh I will miss your morning call to me
Your regal sitting disguised
to blend into the grey branches
My search for you each morning
eyes searching as you called out
to distinguish you from the grey bare sycamore branches
their bleached grey so perfectly matching your muted colors
Yet I felt the pain in this murder
their fear that you would descend upon their young
your need for food overriding
overriding their immense encompassing
I got to watch the show awed
yet my allegiance
my morning meditation
even though I can replicate their calls
even knowing they keep their children with them for 5 years
even seeing their vast, noble display asking for your departure
I did not want to see you leave
I did understand their calling out to you to understand
they couldn’t allow your residency to remain.
I bless you and say au revoir
I bless them for their noble protective nature
An ode to their unborn offspring.
To their community
You, a lone hunter.
Them, a large community to gather and utilize
Both elegant and proud
Both connected and intertwined
like all life I arise with your all
awaiting my wings to unfurl.
We were talking hawks my friend and I
I told him of my love hawk and he of his hawk
in his back tree
who had scared the tree into becoming his table
so he could eat properly
He had watched his hawk devour many feasts
outside his home office window
when we went to put birdseed into his
bird feeder which he had built
it never dawned on this very intelligent man
that he just hung out a sign
Saying, Lunch time
I can’t believe it
He’s back. How could he be after that black silken cloud
descended on his tree last Sunday
Majestic funnel of shrieking
purposeful display of might and flight.
luminous iridescent sea of black
that danced for hours descending
in funnels, in spirals
they spread out
landed like lavished black leaves on the bare-boned winter tree
adding warmth, I’m sure, on that chilly morning
the display of might, the fierce community that said so boldly
You must leave
directly to you
You are my love but even you buckled
bowed to their consolidated wall of will.
They let you know they were protecting their babies to come from yes, YOU.
You left with no goodbye
only 5 short days later you are back with your 5:30 bugle call to warn all who will hear.
I’m on the hunt if you are not into being my breakfast, then hide, hide well.
Ah the play of nature keeps unveiling its mysteries before me in our large, no, very large
city that brims with such amazing wildness of life.