The Seventh Circle

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:

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

I love nature ... I love the way you write ... I particularly love the way you write of nature....