Drenching us in golden sheets of birthing scents
Gaia rustles us awake, aware to lift our heads
and sniff her tactile sky of soothing intoxicates.
We close our smiling eyes, caressing the moment.
Kakia too does lift her nose to sniff, but fearing
being seen, quickly jerks her head away to hide
that twinge of delight she so distains and denies;
her repressed smile contorts her face in pain.
But Gaia sees all; even those flickers of Hope on
Kakia's face and ours before we try to cast them aside;
to be buried in our vaults of need and greed.
All allures could not blanch todays golden sheets.
I saw an eagle today; not on the nest web-cam
I check daily now, but soaring an invisible draft,
circling our neighborhood, rising, tipping down,
gliding to a near red oak limb revealing in glinting
light unique white “bald” head, tail and demeanor.
With apt aplomb he dismissed two raucous crow's
rantings as they stomped and strutted near limbs.
Three swipes of his yellow, hooked beak against
his supporting limb and the cursing duo quickly
took note, lifting, darting west “as the crow flies”
leaving only me and Fuzz to stare; bear witness.
Ditch-stink charmed Fuzz; I was in awe alone.
Did eagle give me a nod as he glanced my way,
arching huge wings for a forward, lifting jump,
fanning white, tail-feathers in silent ascension?
It seemed to me, there was a mutual greeting;
respect hoped for, valued, but not demanded.
I would have given a salute if I did such things.
We have hope; faith in ultimate good we clutch
as a faultless anthem, sang softly, only in sky.
afterstanza:
Now, another year has flown passed that red oak
and I still check out that empty January grey limb.
Awe has waned, Fuzz limps and a question remains,
only now acknowledged, a yellow beak ripping me:
Are there really only Predators and Prey and which....
Belated Words 