It’s the only one that can see through me. I’m the only one who understands it. One majestic hawk with golden feathers and shielded eyes like mine. One who does not belong here, but stays for my sake. One shaggy, skinny, majestic excuse of a hawk soaring overhead. From my house, we can see it, but my father just shrugs and doesn’t appreciate these things.

Its strength is secret. It quietly caws to its friends, but they are too far away to hear. It soars up and it soars down and grabs this weak, timid mouse betwixt its sharp talons and bites the sky with its wry beak and never gives up its humor. This is how it is.

Let it forget its reason for being, it would fall from the sky, and this weak, timid mouse will be there to catch it. Keep, the hawk whispers to me when I sleep. I can’t hear it, but I know it’s outside my window. It teaches me.

When I’m too sad or too angry to keep keeping, when I’m nothing…drowning in a sea of life, one majestic hawk soars above me. And I soar with it. When there is nothing left to look at in this life. One who soars despite the clouds. One who reaches and never forgets to reach. One whose only reason is to be and be. And to this weak, timid mouse…this shaggy, skinny, majestic hawk soars.