Beauty
turned her head
and looked at me
today.
With those perfect eyes
the Red-tailed Hawk
can catch squirrels from the sky
and stare into my soul.
It did.
And reminded me of my passion
which is the hawk’s passion
and the tree’s passion
and yours
perhaps
if you are alive.
What does any living being want I think?
Simplicity,
and the ability to live
beautifully
their one priceless life
of their own simple accord.
And freedom
to Love,
and to be Loved.
Men lust
for power and money and vanity
but this whole game is void of that one truth
their hearts beat for:
Beauty-
and to Love and be Loved.
But the hawk knows as it feeds its vulnerable treasured young the substance
of its labor-
the reincarnation of death.
And so do I
as I watch the cycles of my life
turn
pain into beauty.
