Between life and death

A poem about the competing forces, which contend for our souls and swoop on our moments of decision

Rustle of feather,
whispered on wind
golden eyes that never
miss the slightest thing.
Riding unseen thermal,
watching and waiting
silent solitary sentinel
imperious: all seeing.

A slight movement,
at the edge of the field,
there, but for a moment,
so nearly unperceived.
Her senses heightened,
bright eyes fixed, gazing.
Her wing tips tighten,
to her prey unsuspecting.

Down, down she dives,
silent, shadowy assassin.
Unsheathes her knives,
breathless to the kill.
The sky fills with terror,
the mouse in frozen fear
its final, fateful error
such fragile life to shear.

Two raptors challenge,
like matlers in a ring:
rushing forward, lunge
as bright heavens sing.
One dark, foreboding,
the other light to heal,
the dark, to steal and kill
but light new life to seal.

In all our human frailty,
we scurry human plains
seeking hope with fealty
for all our mortal pains.
Satan, watching waits
to pounce unwary victim,
whilst God’s spirit, sates
the hollow thirsts of sin.

One victim, two hunters
split destiny’s fateful path.
One to tear, break asunder
what God saves from wrath.
The victim has no choice
time will come for all,
but life in balanced poise
yields to the nobler call.

(c) Peter Eleazar at www.bethelstone.com