Skin trembling day after day,
Heart fumbling out a new rhythm,
Unsettled by the news
Sorrow seeping into bones,
Crevices deep with ancient holding and fear
Being swirled up in this moment of uncertainty
Red-shouldered hawk arrives again for winter refuge,
Bigger this year, more majestic,
Impossible to ignore,
Swooping through canyons outside the living room window.
His cries pierce the morning sky:
“Live closer to what is natural:
the rhythm of light and dark;
the drawing in and down of winter”
A call to quiet rest.