The Bird Of Prey

The Bird Of Prey

While sitting
at a fireplace turned cold
with eyes
so drained and empty
- no wonder - they belong to a human...
Or working
in the fields
full of golden ears of corn  
- sweat on your forehead
wiped from time to time
by a pair of
tired horny hands
Suddenly you may see
a flash of light
that came and vanished
as fast as a phantom.
Know that what blinded you
for a moment
was a reflection
of sun in the bird of prey's eye.

So high above our world
his days he spends
hovering in the blue cloudless sky
watching us, people
who from his point of view
look just as tiny as
rabbits, lizards and sparrows
meant to be his food.
At night he sleeps
in his nest
high in the mountains
or hidden
in the treetops
with one eye closed
and the other one open
watching out for danger
as there is no
feeling of safety
in his life.

They say he's cruel
since he kills to feed himself
- his beak and claws
are used to
being covered in warm red blood.
But is it a crime
to fight and win
with pride and glory
with his head always held high?
Never he has been
as severe and unworthy
as those ones walking
underneath his wings spread wide.
What he does is nothing
but a dance of death
conducted by nature.
Behind his cry
there's a laughter
meant for them - nameless people
taking him for a beast
when each one of them carries
a real beast in their heart.

It does not matter
how long his life is  
- he does not count
the days passing by
- living for the moment,
always strong and free
nobody's servant, never a slave.
They try to tame him
but can he be tamed?
Up to his own will
wise men would say.
Attempt to catch him
and you may succeed;
but put him into a cage made of iron
and you will surely fail.
Make him your fellow -
- learn from the white dove -
- the only one he would not kill...
precious and tender,
never afraid;
she of eternal inner clarity
who from time to time
makes the bird of prey
dance to celebrate the life.