The poem below is part of a project I’m doing to raise money for the RSPB, a UK wildlife conservation and protection charity. Being autistic, nature is often my only place of solace, and I want to do all I can to protect it. As I’m not very comfortable around other people, most of the standard ways of helping out (volunteering, ‘traditional’ fundraisers etc.) were not a good fit for me, so I came up with #52weeksofnaturepoetry, where I have to post a nature poem here on this blog each week for an entire year without fail.
If you’d like to help, please share this poem to encourage others to take joy in nature, and if you have the time and means to donate, you can do so here. Let’s help keep our wildlife wild!
Snagging the updraft, she glides high.
No fuss, no theatrics.
Her next meal awaits below, somewhere unseen for the moment.
Not for long.
With due perspective, she’ll pinpoint her catch.
In a quiet spot, she might be able to leap from perch
to extract a tasty morsel,
yet close to ground, disturbances always threaten.
Other predators, rowdy humans, her own hunters –
the ones who claim she kills their game
as if she is playing as they do
rather than being fuelled by pure survival instinct.
When she rides the air, deep eyes alive,
everything becomes clear.
Nothing can hide.
She’s looking for her main course,
no mere snack this time.
Her mate circles close, nothing yet for him.
His luck is his own.
Her skills deliver: mottled brown fur, a speck to our eyes.
A prize for her.
Talons poised, she bullet-dives.
Faster than an arrow meeting its target, near soundless
and every bit as deadly.
For her prey, that is.
Snatched in a blink, life extinguished by her grip
and several nips from her beak.
Precious energy not easily gained.