Skyward Will

I want to be a falconer,

to lure wildness to my fist.

I want to keep a bird of prey,

release freedom from my hand.

I want to be a part of this,

the colour, the texture, the taste:

Spirit on the wing, I will

make flesh and blood soar,

see him seeing form the sky,

see him dive, see him kill.

I want him to choose my fist,

to see wildness in my hand, to understand

me, here, with my feet in the wood.

Or here, or should I stand

thus, or thus?……………..

…….I came to be a part of him,

returned my wildness to his fist.

I came to feed my freedom

from his hand, to understand

him down there, with his handful of blood

I’ll return freely to this, my fist.

I want to, and yet….

© Kay Green 2003

First Published by Poetry Monthly

The Austringer © Colin Breck 2004