The Gift Of Wings
It’s a most sad day
When hawks do not fly
Everyone says they’re great
When circling in the sky
Some days they soar
Above mother Earth
With the clouds up high
Inviting to the birds
Many days are spent
Against gravity
And it is always there
Pulling at their strings
Hawks of all sizes
Oppose the pull to Earth
And with powerful strokes
They lift high as cherub birds
I see all the airplanes
Flying too with wings
Though they don’t compare
To hawks with their screams