The Red Kite

Milvus milvus - the Red Kite, Wales 1980

I stand, still as a stone in the dark shadows

leaning my back against the rough cottage wall,

spellbound by the unfolding drama above

where the Red Kites hover in the sunlit sky.

Circling on the upward thermal they keep guard

above the oak tree where they have made their home,

a wide nest of stout twigs lined with soft sheep wool,

a first brood for this cwm since many a year.      

The cock bird flies high, then dives toward the nest

his long slim body like some bronze feathered spear,

pale grey head, then russet sleek to wide forked tail.

Golden eyes searching out dangers threatening,

he scans the sky for crows, ready to defend

the high empty nest against their predations,

looking for humans who hide in the bracken

with sinister khaki canvas collecting bags.

But, just one small old man, deerstalker hatted

sits on a small stool near the foot of the tree,

today’s sentry to keep safe the precious pair,

no black crows intruding, no thieves lie waiting.

As the Kites settle down, more dangers will come,

illegal poisons, and arrogant hunters

who see themselves as the lords of creation

presuming mere birds to be their rightful prey

As our Kites rise together on the thermal

they dance in a circle of love, fluttering,

mewing and calling to announce their union,

for Red Kites are loyal and will pair for life.

For forty long days she will sit on her eggs

while he takes care of her and hunts for their food,

fresh fish and a rabbit, mole-crickets and frogs.

An earthly marriage, but one made in heaven.

Watching the Red Kites, their pinioned elegance,

their muted dignity and effortless flight,

reminds me that a bird may be a miracle 

whose beauty can outshine that of a woman,

with loyalty greater than that of a man.

As they rise upwards towards the sun I pray 

that we may love these our brothers and sisters

for all earth’s creatures are the children of God.

                                      Naomi