The eagle

After Psalm 61

I watched it circle

in front of the sun,

the heat searing.

I watched it flying

high, swooping low,

soaring and descending,

coming closer to my form

in the sand.

The sun was darkened

as it flew closer, so close

I could hear feathers

and wings pushing 

against the wind, so close

I smelled the scent

of heated feathers, so close

I was wrapped in shade,

the shelter of wings,

and I thought

the eagle had landed.

Photograph by Mathew Schwartz vis Unsplash. Used with permission.

A strange home

After Psalm 91

This is a home, I’m told;

a dwelling, a place to live

and abide, and yet one

of the strangest houses

I’ve encountered.

No walls, no windows, no door,

roofless, no systems to heat

or cool, and yet I walk

room to room without

encountering a single wall

or divider, and yet I know

when rooms change. Perhaps

the oddest aspect of this

odd dwelling is the sense

of security provided

by a shadow.

Photograph by Karen Arnold via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

This shelter business

After Psalm 91

This shelter business:

why, I don’t know, I see

the word shelter and I imagine

a desert of sand and searing heat

rocks burning at the touch

and heat of course the heat

a searing sun sucking coolness

from the ground

from my skin.

And yet this shelter, I find,

is a shadow arching over me

protecting me from heat

a refuge from dust and wind

a shield staring down the terror

a shadow

a cleft in the rock

sheltering me from enemies

sheltering me from others

from myself

Photograph by Rajesh Misra via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.