Buzzard and Chick

at 75, I can see less clearly and more clearly. 

for certain, Life and Death are a continuing, 

and, I might add, overwhelming, twirling of 

some great mandala moving across some 

huge eternity we can’t manage to see, or 

comprehend, tho we know it’s really there. 

this turkey mama, and her one chick still 

among us, are a micro-living-dying of our

Hope, that is also as eternal, that our self-

selves and our progenies will go on and on. 

for this, we work, and hover, and Do those

things-that-must be-done. this, we call

Compassion, This, is Love as a power of

verbs, to presently necessary, if not truly

perfect...turkey mother is aware. she is 

response-able. she has only a few simple

daily chores, that she knows must be done,

For Love...

shelter. water. food grains, bugs. places of

protection. for sleep, air to breathe, no fires.

watchful eyes. conscious caution. traveling 

feet. safe meet for flock. adventure, still!...

For Two....