Windhover, eye-sharp flight
piercing through
waits… waits… until scurrying feet
betray voles to violence.
Seated on rising air, gnawing need
to feed
fierce nestlings, strong kestrel sons,
life the price for life.
Thrilled by hunter,
weeping for the small,
prey needing to pray,
furry squeak of death or life.
Hunter or hunted,
the eyes of God above see
no life is spent
but in the knowledge of the Highest.
Lord, we watch and marvel
at diversity
As life exists hungrily
living on the edge.
Living on the edge…
where the blink of an eye
sees the meal taken
or the great escape!
Mysteries and miracles!
Not understanding,
we shed tears for the dying,
watch the drama of life persist.
This, this is blood-real.
Only the Creator knows
rhyme or reason for now-
but the Story plays, life the price for life.
Have we enemies watching?
A life we take lightly,
open to be taken suddenly.
God watch over a life on the edge.
“Kestrel Hunt” (c) Richard Starling 2020
Look, See, Pray 