Red-Tailed Hawks
Desire dances between the intuitive and instinctual
where the danger from need is its exploitation of reason,
and blindness to the insuperable obstacles in its path.
Our path was a thick carpet of pasture beneath a soft blue sky.
A pair of red-tailed hawks soared overhead on a thermal joyride.
Everything within our reach was a new treasure to hold.
What we saw, felt, and possessed, are now the skeletons of memory.
Hauntings that remind us of the vacuity of the material world.
Ever widening their circles the hawks flew on. So did you.
posted by Martin Lanaux @ 4:16 PM
2 comments
2 Comments:
I spent hours one evening pouring over Audubon prints. You never told me there was so much written history on each print and the magnificent creature depicted. One of the herons, for example, pinned a cat down with his huge bill and the rancher shot him when he caught the heron going after his children!!!
Hawks over fields in clear blue skies are my most vivid childhood memory.
The hawks were our sentinels.
They guarded the sequences
of our lives.
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