The Hawk

Life,

Unbalanced yet unwavering

Sits like a hawk on brittle twigs,

Waiting.

The winds shake her

And the rain soaks her

But she remains there,

Unbalanced, but unwavering.

The dive to the earth is far,

And the risk, high,

But the prize is just.

So she watches,

Waiting.

A break in the clouds

Reveals her endeavour

And with the rustle of her feathers

She spreads her wings,

Casting shadows

Against the dying light 

Of an endless sun;

Soaring willingly,

Into oblivion.

Copyright © 2012 by Simon Austin