Learning To Fly

Written
2004

 Friend hawk, play that current

       for both of us.

Circle high and gently drift with grace.

View the richness

      of the country side.

I so envy you.

Pity me with

       feet glued to the ground. 

I will fly,

       if you but tell me how.

Who taught you to fly?

Did you know

      you could learn?

Can you remember

      not knowing how?

And did you know fear?

Can you learn to fly

      when thinking about it?

Or did you just fly?

If I am to learn from you,

      you need

      to tell me these things.

Do you remember crashing

       on the first flight?

What did your parents

      say when you crashed?

Now you fly without effort.

Flying is a part of you.

You are flight.

But how did you learn?

Can you teach me?

I too want to fly

       and gently glide.

If I am to learn,

       must I be a hawk?

To fly like you

       I would change.

I wish to fly

       more than to be what I am.

For there are heights where you circle

      that I must achieve.

Or perhaps I must wait until I have

       wings of my own.

 

 

 

 

Notes
I have Swanson hawks who nest in my neighbors very tall tree each year. Each year I listen to them chatter and come home to feed the young. I float in my pool and watch the fledglings learn to fly. The hawk is effortless grace in motion.