A Song For Sight Poem by Bryan Sefton

Scything his way along the edge of day
A final exult for the bird of prey
The hawk peaks, pauses, tumbles and calls
Oh so casually it turns and falls
Turning he roars out of the heights
Bottoms then soars up. His flight
Forcing the head back to hold the vision
The feeling it kindles almost a religion
One feels the air taken and shifted
Made solid, pliable, moulded and lifted
To become this, this ariel song
Sung in the hearts of the onlooking throng
The same awe that one reserves for the sacred
Felt in the breast of the blessed
Sprawling in space, resting on nothingness

Now one is drawn to the dawn of time
When paths were set for the species to follow
When some chose to crawl and some chose to swim
And some chose the path of the swallow
Man settled for the ground when he fell from the trees
Ancestral bird fell and caught on a breeze
That is why man has climbed to the heights
To follow with envy the bird in flight