FEATHERS

He crouched in the hollow
in the ancient cliff
careful not to disturb
the bones scattered
just in the shadows behind.
He waited patiently
until he heard the sweep
of the great wings
and the mighty bird
alighted on its nest.
He reached out quickly
and plucked two feathers
never more, and pulled back
into the shadows
of his ancestors.
He carried the feathers
bound with a leather strap
close to his heart
to ward off the evil
that swept down
off the Wyoming plains
licking at the Wind River.
He grew old, his once
black hair streaked in gray
and he knew his time
was coming, it would be
a good day to die,
the sun high over
the mountains, his feathers
ready to carry his spirit
to the sky people
to return to the mighty eagle
from whom he had
accepted life.

MAL ANNEE

On the anniversary
of the start of a war
one feels almost compelled
to speak to its horrors,
its cause, its effect.
But we live in an age
where wars are plentiful,
when peace is the exception
and war seems to loom
around every corner.
So on this anniversary
I watch the snowy egret
stare into the pond
outside my window,
the great bird calmly
imagining that
in her world
all of the people
are merely fish.

HALT

 

But what if, just once
time slowed significantly
or even stopped.
A bird becomes frozen
in the sky, not moving,
not falling, staring
at the distant tree
in total stillness.
A drop of rain hovers
just over the grass
dreaming of chlorophyl.
If you had such a moment
how would you wish
to spend it, knowing
you would be
frozen in that wish.

CROW DANCE

Sunday

They gather in the trees
remarkably silent
one speaks
their morning prayers
and they
return home.

Monday

Only three arrive
to commentate
our morning walk.
We appreciate
the silence.

Tuesday

There is a reason
for all
sentient creatures
but the crow
tests our credulity.

Wednesday

A wintered branch
breaks
under the weight
of the blackness.
There is much
gnashing of wing.

Thursday

A single bird
seems pitiable
and lonley
but we lack
avian compassion.

Friday

The usual
morning cacaphony
but why are they
so happy
it is Friday?

Saturday

Would that they
were ravens
and would heed
my entreaty
Nevermore!

CREATION

God created man in God’s image
much as man created God in his.
If there were no God, there
could be no man, and yet,
if there were no man,
there would be no God.
Perhaps Aristotle had it right
but certainly easier, noting
that bird and egg must
have always existed, and so
for that moment, Aristotle
without knowing it,
created both man and God.

ARDEIDAE MORNING

He stands still
staring at
the ever changing
surface of the pond,
which he knows
holds infinite possibility
that he does
not wish to disturb,
lest the moment
be forever lost.
Nothing else
matters to him
as he calmly,
and ever so slowly,
lifts his leg
in tree pose,
and reaches out
with unfurled
wings to grasp
the breeze of
a perfect
heron morning.

NATURE’S PROPHET

He sits still
demanding your attention.
He stares at you with green eyes
and a defiant look, saying
you are a visitor here,
this is our world
so do not abuse your privilege
of sharing this space with us.
We were here long
before you arrived
and our kind will
be here long after
you depart, although
we do not comprehend
why you always seem
to want to rush
yourself headlong
into extinction.