Bird Sighting

11May07

a red-tailed hawk (being harassed by two smaller birds)

 

Hawks

Hawks upon the thermals fly
Upward spirals in the sky,
Canvassing the fields below,
Circling endlessly, and slow.

 

Far beneath them winds the creek
Through expectant woods to seek
Union with the Ohio,
And forever southward flow.

 

Here the earth a secret hides,
Only to the pure confides
Knowledge of an absolute
Cowherd boy with golden flute.

 

Bush and flower, stone and tree–
All of them are sentient, see?
For His touch, His glance, they yearn,
When His presence they discern.

 

Patiently the humble grass
Hopes His dancing feet will pass
Over her, that she might serve
Him of three-fold-bending curve.

 

Hearing His insistent flute,
Birds and animals stand mute,
Pierced by transcendental sound,
And their tears fall to the ground.

 

Come, it summons lovingly.
Come enjoy My company.
Spend a moment, or an hour,
In My luminescent bower.

 

‘Round Him all the creatures dance
In a pure ecstatic trance,
Bowing, dipping, twirling ’round,
Safe upon enchanted ground.

 

If one wants the eyes to see
Transcendental harmony,
Pure devotion will reveal
More than what these woods conceal,
And what is false and what is real.

 

Like the hawk, be true to quest,
Focus on the waiting prize,
Persevere through every test,
And you’ll behold Him–sans a guise.

—-copyright Ms. Rural (2007)

Filed under: Hare Krishna, New Vrindaban, birds, life, nature, place, poetry   |  Leave a Comment