Love Of The Hawk's Eye

February 22, 2010
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How the red hawk flies high above
--This rare success my soul shall grace
For I would know the passion of love
--Shall take me to this heavenly place
My heart will see upon the ground
--The mouse that scurries upon the land
Its tiny energetic body will have found
--The beak of the red hawk’s fair hand
It will squeal and try to wriggle free
--For fear of a death filled with pain
But although this may but will not be
--If so, without regrets and not in vain

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