The Constant Peril Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

The world spins on human whims.
The falcon flies free of its tether.
Looking down from its spiraling heights
It welcomes the wind in its feathers.

In the endless skies of a desert night
The stars shine down on invisible life.
The earth comes alive to a nocturnal world
While the falconer searches for shelter.

Abandoned by his raptor,
Left with only his stallion,
The man and beast make an uneasy peace
With the echoes that bounce off the canyon.

As the fire dies and the stallion quiets
The man lies alone with his visions.
In this ageless place an ageless race
Once sang of its mythic traditions.

And here again on this timeless night
The drums begin to beat.
Voices rise from the dry riverbed
And the falconer gets to his feet.

He sees a form approaching
As lithesome as the sand
As regal as a pharaoh
As silent as the land.

Her hand was raised in warning.
A babe was at her breast.
Behind her rose a desert storm
Her eyes told him the rest.

Men have come and men have gone
The earth remains unaltered.
Until this time of vile crimes.
Now even Nature falters.

We stand here at the Cusp of Fate.
There is no Second Coming.
All live or die within our time.
This is the Final Running.