The  Osprey

by Tony Owen

 Lord of the lake

 carved from the sky,

cleaved by the

wind and light.

Feathers etched

in the darkest pools,

eyes of the sun

that carry the night.

Talons deep in steeple cloud

to scale the sheer sky,

to swoop and dive

upon the silver fish,

hook talons and burning eye.

A struggle in the fire

of blood and water,

the gleam of fin and wing

the fight to fly and thrive.

To rise into the

silent sombre sky,

in cloud water reflections

the soar and glide,

of wingtip inscriptions

that scribe the air and light.

To stately perch

surveyor of land and water

through the sun´s fiery eye,

etched by the tree tops

upon the steel blue sky,

in ash and ember

numerals of time.