Transition

I walk out to my driveway
on a routine chore,

find to my amazement
a glorious, noble raptor.

I decide it has just died.
It is perfect.

I am stunned by its dark head,
striped gray and black feathers,
white breast, and yellow legs.

Even in death it looks
powerful, intelligent, alert.

As a city girl, it's hard to
organize a funeral for such
a magnificent creature, alone.

I gently place it in a wooded area
from my shovel, pick up one
mesmerizing tail feather.

I have mixed emotions:
it is scary and intense.

The universe chose me
to be with this bird
during its journey
to the spirit world,

where it can again soar free.