JESSED
reeling, flying over cliffs, reckless,
wild, what does she know? resting
on the highest rocks, she watches him
cautiously: every day she comes
a little closer and if he moves too quickly,
she flies away. if he speaks too loudly, she freezes.
sometimes, angry with her own desire
for capture, she is all talons
and noise. who would understand,
who has compassion for the deep, wild, fire
that feeds her spirit? who has the inclination?
every day she watches him cautiously. Every day
she moves a little closer, every day he
brings a a little food. every day she fears
a little less to eat from his outstretched hand. Angry
with her own desire for capture, she bites him once or twice.
she learns in time
that he will not harm her. who
has the time to know her?
the day comes and he wears his gauntlet.
knowing her place is on his fist she screams, bates, she bites.
knowing her placeis on his fist, he jesses her. Knowing her place
and yet angry with her desire for capture,
she breaks her jess.
she flies to the high hills.
who has the patience?
who can understand?
who but the falconer knows
how to speak to his bird?
no one will reproach him for impatience with her. Alone,
In the hills, she watches the stars whirl around the sky.
she understands stars, their senseless beautiful journeys,
senseless, like her own.
the falconer knows his sparrowhawk.
he tames her, in his way.
who but the falconer understands his hawk?
she flies when things disturb her spirit, proud jesses trailing.
she thinks he takes no note of her journeys.
some try to cut her jesses. his silence,
his gaze, speak loudly.
who but the falconer has the patience to understand her?
2005
reeling, flying over cliffs, reckless,
wild, what does she know? resting
on the highest rocks, she watches him
cautiously: every day she comes
a little closer and if he moves too quickly,
she flies away. if he speaks too loudly, she freezes.
sometimes, angry with her own desire
for capture, she is all talons
and noise. who would understand,
who has compassion for the deep, wild, fire
that feeds her spirit? who has the inclination?
every day she watches him cautiously. Every day
she moves a little closer, every day he
brings a a little food. every day she fears
a little less to eat from his outstretched hand. Angry
with her own desire for capture, she bites him once or twice.
she learns in time
that he will not harm her. who
has the time to know her?
the day comes and he wears his gauntlet.
knowing her place is on his fist she screams, bates, she bites.
knowing her placeis on his fist, he jesses her. Knowing her place
and yet angry with her desire for capture,
she breaks her jess.
she flies to the high hills.
who has the patience?
who can understand?
who but the falconer knows
how to speak to his bird?
no one will reproach him for impatience with her. Alone,
In the hills, she watches the stars whirl around the sky.
she understands stars, their senseless beautiful journeys,
senseless, like her own.
the falconer knows his sparrowhawk.
he tames her, in his way.
who but the falconer understands his hawk?
she flies when things disturb her spirit, proud jesses trailing.
she thinks he takes no note of her journeys.
some try to cut her jesses. his silence,
his gaze, speak loudly.
who but the falconer has the patience to understand her?
2005
posted by humdog at 9:09 AM
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