My heart sang
Passage not south
Stay the snow
Scoff the squall
Soar midst storm
as I watched a marsh hawk ascend, plummet and wheel in the cold
Massachusetts wind. Circling over the fen he searched to dine this
Christmas day. His ballet was beyond Baryshnikov as he rose on currents
on spread wings and flashed his white rump against the gray sky filled with
flakes of coming storm. My soul delighted with his grace and envied his
three dimensional freedom. Earth could not hold this spirit as he screamed
his joy upon sight of prey. With a burst of power he fell from the sky into
the long brown grass. I did not know for whom to root: hunter or hunted?
Each moment of earth's circle of life God watches His handiwork. For
whom does He root? Whose prayers does He answer? Who eats this day?
Who escapes to safety to forage another time? Hawk or mouse? How am I
to understand this mystery of life?
And God said to Job, "Does the hawk take flight by your wisdom and spread
his wings toward the south? Does the eagle soar at your command and build
his nest on high? He dwells on a cliff and stays there at night; a rocky crag
is his stronghold. From there he seeks out his food; his eyes detect it from
afar. His young ones feast on blood, and where the slain are, there is he."
Job 39:26-30
The LORD said to Job: "Will the one who contends with the Almighty
correct him? Let him who accuses God answer him!" Then Job answered
the LORD: "I am unworthy--how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my
mouth." Job 40:1-4