How much longer will we search? All night,
the blackness cherishes its splendid gifts-
the spotted owl, the thin and hungry wolves,
white-skinned birches where bobtailed deer
graze on clover. But we are kept from paradise
cradled by what-we-are-denied, knowledge of
the light, acceptance of the darkness.
In an open field, at dusk, a falcon hunts
for mouse or rabbit, without a sign, he circles
round and round. Somethings that are hidden
were never meant to be discovered.
1 comment:
I love nature ... I love the way you write ... I particularly love the way you write of nature....
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