Cottonwood trees fluttering
on the shores of the river---
bending and swaying
with the summer breeze.
The trees aren’t fighting the wind,
but dancing with the wind---
Both moving rhythmically together
Creating mesmerizing beauty.
Resist and the wind will win.
Stand stiff and proud and trees will tumble.
Cottonwoods survive by
Not giving up but channelling
energy, working together:
Bending and leaning into life’s struggles.
The sage owl, Orion, sits perched on a branch
sitting and watching and pondering
What was and what could be.
Is he wise or
is it just his quiet nature?
Alone watching the world go by.
Nighttime: his time to shine.
His sight is sharp, intense
despite missing an eye.
At dusk his husky voice
laments the passing of another of day.
Still sitting but now on the hunt, watching.
He transforms from a quiet wise soul
to a predator:
Swooping slowly down,
he preys on the little creatures
scurrying beneath him.
He returns to his perch
satiated and satisfied
Surveying the underbrush again
Looking for other easy prey:
Not wise,
but, condescending and unflinching
Looking at me.
