imagesThat sacred summer
I watched an osprey dive feet first
wings spread like benediction
when it rose with a silver, fluttering trout.

That trout, oh! That trout plucked from
the dense tug of water
into the effortless current of air.

Gasping with astonished breaths
that rash unknown sunlight
only now obscured by nothing, nothing.

Shuddering lips
tasting that sharp bite of
sage and pine, of star particles and  meteor dust.

Mouthing what! What?
That abrubt death and
that equally abrupt rebirth.
I’m asking you, have you felt it? I know I have.

That moment when razored talons grab you by the neck
rip you out of the sweet spiraled current of
your one native life
into an alien other.

I’ve been a trout
Have you?

Gulping and amazed at fire light and
the unsound emptiness of air
offering no rampart nor shore.

When death comes as Winter
a dream dashed
A love lost
An unwarranted “no.”

A life upended.

I think it will be like that, too
at the very end.
That astonishment that
sense of angry
and betrayed wonder.

Can you become a silver trout
with sudden, unexpected wings
gulping unheralded star dust
shouting Hallejulia! with your

rounded lips
when you are called to soar?
How outrageously new are
you willing to be?

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5 Responses to OSPREY AND TROUT

  1. Kris Hutchin says:

    Wonderful, visual evoking. I understand the winter paired with death, but it is actually very much alive. The lynx, a vey musular cat, paddng along the snow in our backyard. Cross country skiing down a fast hill when a little 1″ creature appears, a mouse, scampers out. OMG, I don’t want to run over him! Thank God I missed him. Such a little creature. One of God’s many.

    Your description of the osprey reminded me of canoeing down the Swanson River, an eagle dipped out and came up with a big salmon.. Incredible as he flew atop a spruce tree. Ah, nature most wonderful ever season of the year!

  2. Carter says:

    Once I was the osprey.
    Now I am the trout.
    What will I be,
    when the nex tme
    comes out!

  3. Nancy says:

    I’ve been a trout, with life upended. I’ve known that moment when razored talons grab you by the neck, rip you out of the sweet spiraled current of your one native life into an alien other. This poem has not left me since the day it was posted. Amazingly eloquent, gifted verse.

  4. Thank you for this gift! Wonderfully written!

  5. Bett says:

    This bird and this fish are in sacred prayer with each other. I am the messy one. I want things to be “different” than is right Nature. But I’m only a speck of God. My upendings teach me to embrace grace. But I must be reminded often. Thank you for this provocative picture and poem. Blessed Be.

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