Buffeted by the wind
alone I stand
silent at cliff’s edge
watching hawks above
effortlessly wheel on fast-rising thermals.
Majestic, marvelous
they soar on feathered sinews
grace and beauty idealized
renew they my spirit
filling me with delight.
When weary I grow of technology’s relentless pace
and ambition’s double-edge sword
I am pulled to the simplicity of hawks
circling at cliff’s edge
and the cleansing rubefacient wind.
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