TO THE HAWK

You who flit with the light of the sun, Who fly with the wind on the way, You are the power and the beauty of the day In the golden sea of the sky, like a poised fun.

I watch your wings unfold, your ease, High above, where the clouds are spun Into soft whites and grays, a hush, a tease;— To you, the soft pulse of nature is one.

In the heart of the wild, your call swells, Borne on currents that chase through the trees. As silence before storms—and the wild sea swells— I wait for the sharp, sweet thrill of release.

• Hope Mirrlees