I Saw A Guillemot Fall Today

I saw a guillemot fall today
off the nesting cliffs
before it caught the wind;
I saw it snatched by a seagull’s bill
fast-disappearing in its maw.
Lazarus-like it emerged again
and I caught my breath for joy,
when swept down another gull
to swallow the fledgling whole.

Nature’s mien is none too keen
on compassion for the young.
The weak it passes over lightly
as fodder for the strong.
The world smiles at peace
entraps hopeful souls
then dogs of war do feed
while songbirds chirp
and children sing
of innocence and joy.

What means this? cries the philosopher
writing down his ethics.
Why it’s nature versus nurture
exclaims the educationist.
Oh, hollow man, feed on love
the poet strums a tune.
The guillemot parents of a fledgling bird
hear not the empty words.
They see beyond a skeptic’s sight
to an ordaining hand, and flying easy
from an empty nest, they’ll return again in spring.

Oh God, who takes away and gives,
our wounded hearts you see!
O give us strength to bear the pain
and rest in faith again.
Our grief we give to you once more
and pray our sight you’ll clear
to see the hope of eternal days
when tears no more we’ll fear.

18 thoughts on “I Saw A Guillemot Fall Today

  1. They see beyond the (skeptics) fear to an ordaining hand.
    … .. needed to hear that today when I am troubled about circumstances affecting a loved one who has no fear. God is in control he said and though I agreed .. I felt like looking for answers and possible options for a deal gone sour instead of trusting the Ordaining Hand.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Take heart, Rose — The beautiful thing about it is there’s no way around God’s control anyway. And that is a deep consolation to those of us who are his own, because of Romans 8:28, what someone has called “the divine cordial.”

      Liked by 1 person

  2. This world is broken and has been at war with itself since the fall. I am glad this place is not our hope. But there is coming the change of an age in which a new order will be established and all our swords will be beaten into ploughshares.
    This is a lovely poem Dora. Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

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