Higher than the mountains, up above the bracken,
She is looking down through the cloud and into the lake
At a fish, clear to see in the cool green water.
Diving now, air streaming, talons ready
And splashing through the surface, it’s done.
She senses a change as she eats her prey -
Days getting colder and the long flight lies ahead.
Time to fly, young now raised and almost fledged.
Back to the other place, bountiful and warm.
Now is time to fly and fly and fly.
Gaining height, up and soaring above the Earth,
Soaring over forests, lakes, seas and sands,
Soaring on widespread wings, head outstretched.
Soaring high on the air currents, miraculously free,
Carried to another world by energies unseen.
The shapes below telling of places to fish and rest,
Then on again with the rising sun, into the far horizon.
Leaving me here, cold winds beginning to blow,
Rain falling from heavy skies, the darkness deepening.
And she soars with wingspread in the sky
White chest, huge down curved wings yellow eyes and shaped fangs
She bellows and dives, the whirling wind calculates the movements of her prey as she flies around the flowing river.
I salute her, my totem, she has left the North, left her mate
To fly four thousand miles to return to embrace the warmth of Africa.
I share her attributes, restless nature.
I too was bonded to mates I have since left to seek adventure in a new land far from our soil.
To fly away in melting cold and burning sun, to peel off the future famine, war and corruption.
I can only flee like the osprey bird, endure tempest,desert and droughts hoping for compassion and resurrection.
Catherine Morgan Wania and Teazhy