Circling myself now like an osprey I once observed fishing,
sitting by the Union River on a chill fall day,
eyes fastened upon icy grey currents, swirling
and eddying under the arched bones of trees;
who could guess what she saw and how, yet surely
as my beating heart, down she went, brakes on,
claws out, swooping up her catch, oversized
enough to attract competition, vying now
for the jewel, a full stomach, the satisfaction
for all I know of tearing into silverbacked flesh
to arrive at crimson glory, only to forfeit
in the end and begin afresh.

This precipitous edge circumcribes all
of life, only for us translates more
into meanderings of a mind preparing
to enlarge its capacity with every opened door
of perception, each holding the universal key;
One can only rattle the latch for another,
not push us through; this journey is solitary,
as simple as it is complex, requiring lack
rather than effort, let go, let flow.

Perhaps this is what the osprey knew best,
only shrieking in a brief moment of dismay,
then simply turning to the task,
again and again, eyes focused on the river,
always on the river.

 

photo credit: Mika Linho

photo credit: Mika Linho