Sarah-Judith Bernstein

The Raven

He walks quickly to the end of the branch
Raises his head
Stretching it from side to side
Exercising his muscles after a night of rest

He shrugs his wings backwards
Loosening the muscles

Now, fully awake,
He looks around
Eyes darting this way and that
For signs of predator

His head darts in and out
As he determines the direction of the wind

He raises his wings just slightly,
An old pro at this sort of thing

Determining the direction of the wind
He raises his head
Standing straighter
Loosening his hold on the branch beneath him

Raising his wings so that they point backwards
He prepares to leap

Done with preparation
The raven takes flight.


The Hawk

A bird of prey
A bird of flight
A bird of wind
A bird of night

The hawk of moon and starry night
The hawk of watchers running where sky is bright

The beauty of the earth and sky with wings so like the eagle
May stretch his wings and, with beak wide and head held high,
Make take, like a king in his domain,
To the skies when he will, and savor every joy,
Of this his strangest right, the right of flight.

{Poetry by Sarah-Judith Bernstein}