Art

The Wild God of the World – Wallace Barker

I saw a hawk stoop in the sky and dive down below the treeline.
I saw two hawks playing in the sky as I stood in front of my brother’s grave.
I look for hawks everywhere and at the cemetery
I see them more often than you might think.

One time in Sante Fe I saw a hawk attempt to hit a dove
Sitting on a tree branch and it was like an explosion in the tree.
But the dove escaped with the hawk in pursuit.
Everywhere was high desert and brown mountains.

I read that young hawks begin by playing with other birds.
They find flocks of birds in the sky and swoop with them
Just doing acrobatics in the sky and enjoying the thrill of flight
But eventually they kill one of the birds probably on accident

Because their talons are sharp and they fly with such velocity.
This first playful kill becomes the basis for a lifetime of hunting.
They learn and are perhaps surprised to find they are not playing
And it was never a game and the entire world turns on its axis

To face the sun and then away from the sun
Forever and ever as far as any of us are concerned.