The hunter tilts on the wind
It’s body a blade of silence cleaving through the
measureless blue
Its wing, wide and ragged bear the purpose
Of an ancient design, an immaculate weapon
Gods perfect hunter
The shadow cast by it but a fleeting brand on the earth it roams

Beneath the hunter, in worlds below, its prey sprawled in breathless hush
Thump thump thump
The rabbits heartbeat a taut rhythm
A primal symphony of fear
Music to the hunters ears

Time falters, moments tense
The hunter eyes twin augurs
Scrying death from the vault of heaven
Gods judgement upon the beasts below
Power and poise incarnate

Then the dive comes
Time comes too slow yet too fast
The air itself seems to spilt
As if the hunter is not moving through the blue
But dragging the skies themselves down with it

Talons strike, flesh tears, bones break
A flash of motion honed by divine destructive design
A precision that knows no mercy
And shows no falter
Only hunger
Only the law carved deep in years of known
The hunter has its victory

The skies exhale as the hunter lifts up into them again
Its prize clutched within its vice
The world below thankful for its safety again
The grasses sway in its wake
Bowing before the hunters might

Oh, hear the hymn the heavens weave,
A thousand strings where clouds deceive
The barren earth, now drenched in light,
As drops compose the endless night.

Each leaf, a drum; each stone, a chord,
A choir raised to praise the Lord.
The rivers hum, the valleys sigh,
The rain ascends, though falling, high.

In streams of mercy, time unfolds,
A grace that waters hearts and souls.
The song cascades, a fleeting art,
Yet lingers deep in every heart.