I was awakened from my morning sleep by the red shouldered hawk
Shrieking and piercing my dream, ending the reverie with harsh abruptness.
Compelled, I peeked out of the window to see the source, now gone,
My eye drawn to the frozen lake below, half looking for her through the treetops.
The chickadee, the downy and their various competitors skirted around the branches.
Geese and mallards lounged on and around a break in the ice.
Perhaps a coyote would be stalking her way to them over the water now hardened by days of frozen air.
The fox family who lives nearby might be foraging in the ravine, rust against white snow.
Could the eagle be out for a morning glide?
A day with possibility begins with thanks to the Maker for this display of nature,
And thanks to the hawk, for the call to observe.