Soar

	Have you ever heard the wind,
	Spinning and flailing among the low branches,
	Knuckling up a trunk and
	Exploding through the canopy?

	Have you ever felt the cold
	Chill from a thousand plodding glaciers,
	Creeping along the earth to
	Rough your bones in early morning darkness?

	Have you seen the face of God
	Who never smiles except at dawn
	When the sun is low and the kestrel rises
	On the western currents toward the sea?

	Have you found your place above the trees,
	Raised your voice and arched your wings,
	Gusted against the canyon walls and
	Soared along the oceanís rim?

	I know you have, I know you have,
	For you are gale and gull and
	Child of God and, in this time,
	Forever golden, perhaps sublime.

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Kestrel soaring

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