Penegrine Falcon

Lost for words in this metaphorical rain forest
Searching for that poem which has wormed its way
Into my caste iron filing system

Having to rewrite under the shadow of the midnight sun
Scratching at the surface
Trying to recall
Traces of wing flight
Blinded by the scorching rays
Bleaching the taut black and white mottled wings
Which lie in wait
Waiting for lost phrases to emerge
From the dense nettled undergrowth

Feeling that rush of feathers beat down
Air brushing petrified stanzas
Retracing shadowy granite steps
Discovering traces of past and future existences
                Watching the playful flight of peregrine falcons
Breeze with the hidden thermals

Catching a glint of the suspension bridge
As commuters crawl in slow procession
Towards blue glass city centre office block.


Rupert Hopkins 12th September 2005


Poem Extracts

"Watch the graceful flight of a golden eagle,
Fly through the daybreak eye of one’s inner consciousness and
Enter this dream landscape,"

Sketch for the West Highland Way