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Gannets

I stood on the crag on a clear summer’s day,
And looked down to watch the surf breaking the scree,
When I heard the clamour of birds out in the bay,
And looked up to see a company of gannets soaring.
Silhouetted in the sky with their wings spread wide,
They flashed with finesse in and out of my sight.

These ‘Queens of the Sea’ I saw in the crowded heavens,
Expressing freedom with impressive manoeuvring.
Then, a serenity when they postured within my ken,
And plunged into the deep at alarming speeds.
With impeccable timing, avoiding collisions,
They broke the ocean's surface to pursue the sardines;

While others floated on the water, bobbing up and down,
Undaunted by the torpedo divers raining from above.
As captives of the sea’s grasp, they accepted their outcome,
And waited for a wind under-wing to help lift them airborne.
Then, with exhilarated anticipation, I cringed,
To see gannets running atop the waves, flapping their wings.

And when in the tempest I seek my mind’s eye passport
To indulge in the vista, I witnessed from the crag.
Into the loom of death’s murky depths, I seek comfort
With floating birds that render fate awaiting escape.
Then, I sing praises, though life has its shortcomings,
And lie back satisfied to watch gannets soaring.

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