What is their view of us,
The sky-creatures looking down
On the earth-bound gaggle of women
Who gather in this place
To walk the hills?
We marvel at their flight -
The nuthatch on the garden feeder
Swooping away to bury his bounty ;
The crows callously mobbing a buzzard;
The fan-tailed red kite sailing on the thermals.
We agree to quieten our talk
And lie back on the green supporting earth
For five precious minutes,
Listening to the supreme song
Of the vanishing skylark.
If these skies emptied
Through some apocalypse
We women would miss the birds,
But if the opposite were true
Would they feel any loss?
They soar as we only clamber,
Are free as we are weighted down,
And yet there is a connection
As we each, in our own sphere,
Embrace life.
No comments:
Post a Comment