Does the falcon
see me
whirring by
beneath its great talons?
Would it have any way of knowing
I see it
every morning
like a spirit guardian,
like a guide from some other world?
Perhaps the falcon represents some entity
I have yet to know –
or nothing meaningful at all.
Still,
I’d rather it be her
(the one we lost)
keeping a watchful gaze
as I drive to work
beneath the gooseneck lamp post,
urging me onward
deeper still
into the forest
of my waiting dreams.
Saying:
don’t forget the wild;
don’t forget who you are.
Photo credit: Pixabay.com
The Wisdom Shop 