Falconflight
by Eternity
Over flowing field and wooded dale,
Through the spring-breeze wind I sail,
Under lofty clouds toward edge of night,
A noble tale of the falcon's flight.

Keen-eyed gazing at the earth below,
At the new growth, green, in the melting snow,
Passing is my shadow over rising land,
Like a blackened ghost from death's cold hand.

In clutching talons lays the trembling being,
A small, quick hare in the last moments of seeing,
Quick no more, save for its journey to death,
And the slowing pulse of life and breath.

A cycle not ending 'till the close of time,
A longer thing than the thoughts of mind,
A tale of man, and beast, and time and ages,
Writ in life's immortal pages.

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Sarapin, in the year 243 AF.