Spiritual Forum

My Hawk Soars Swiftly.

Through my forest I do walk,

my being swiftly follows.

With brilliant wings of a hawk,

it soars through the wooded hollows.

I feel it lifting from me,

as a feather it be light.

I see my inner self suddenly,

and my hawk she does take flight.

I smile to the golden sun,

a joy never felt before.

In my world there is no gun,

just your hawk in the air can soar.