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Mar 2013
With wings at rest longer than its tail
My hobby waits.  Great bird of creation,
Where do you come from?  As I sit and mull
You take flight to and from places I may
Never know,
                            Where are you taking me,
Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light
And the wind, which streams then to delirium
Heights?  I am bled and I am torn.  Must I
Suffer in my soaring?  Your clutch, tings
The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers,
I dream of coronations, talons to my head—
A crown of thorns.
hobby
1): a small Old World falcon (Falco subbuteo) with long wings that is dark blue above and white below with dark streaking on the breast.

2): a pursuit outside one's regular occupation engaged in especially for relaxation.
Seán Mac Falls
Written by
Seán Mac Falls  Éire
(Éire)   
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