In a quiet moment
Between classes
I look out the window
Of my 5th storey classroom
And see a sea eagle
Circling.
Not effortless; rather,
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A spring wound up.
A poised potential that
Could release itself at any
Time to plunge into the
Tree canopy below.
I’m reminded of
A moment in childhood.
Looking out the window
Of the family car.
Speed and dust and the
Momentum of passing trees.
Beside the road
A rabbit came into view
And, in the same moment,
A Wedge Tail, glorious
And terrifying,
And terrifying,
Plunged into the frame.
What I saw
Was like a photograph:
Rabbit,
Eagle,
Framed by a window.
Gone.
I wonder, now as I watch
This new bird circling,
What he sees?
Is his world just a rhythm
Of trees punctuated by
Irregular kills?
Or, occasionally,
Does he look
Through windows
Does he look
Through windows
And catch glimpses
Of something profound
and glorious?
Of something profound
and glorious?
