The Hawk
Hawk
The Hawk
I was at work, walking outside when I heard a hawk call. His beautiful cry, in the crisp fall air, instantly brought me back to the forest I miss.
Just sitting in the woods, spending time with God, and watching His creation work around me, as I become one with Him and It.
The smell of wood smoke from long ago, rising up as I rise with it to be free.
The feel of layers of rough cloth on my flesh, protecting me from the chill, pleasing in its warmth.
The crunch of leaves under me, as I shift my position, The cycle of life around me, growing for a season, then falling to the ground to feed, protect, and warm the Earth again.
And there’s that hawk in the highest peak of the tree in the distance, crying and flying into the air to be free.
He cares for nothing but what he is doing in that moment. He knows what he is, and who he is, and that he will be fine. He does exactly what God created him to do, and he feels no shame. He is free.
And I return to my head, praising God and longing to be among my friends the trees and to be free also. To love, to praise God and to live in peace with everything
chrisbunton.blogspot.com
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