No flight is without grace.
Though raucous caws may mark
disputings, though there may be
ungainly pecking orders, ruffled feathers

Still each one finds the gentle cushion
in the rush of forces they are one with
as they rise and dip with expertise
and no negotiation,
casting themselves effortlessly
into the stream, borne up
just as they expect

The scheme of everything
holds each in place,
no flight, however brief,
is without grace.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 7, 2017