A hawk:
gliding through the air;
sailing, sailing, sailing.
His shadow:
below on fields mown bare;
trailing, trailing, trailing.
The bird:
so free up in the sky;
the shadow bound,
yet passing by!
The thought
then quickly comes to me,
that surely bird & shadow flee
the very moment they embrace!
Then what of me,
still here,
still standing?
Standing free, yet bound.
Am I, like the shadow,
merely movement on the ground?
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