Hunted The falcon still rode the stallion black patrolling borders seeking transgressors of ideology. And it heard my murmurings, turned its head my way, two raptor eyes pierced my mind, searching ways to tear apart my freedoms, protections. It saw my transgression, being free of their domination. Raptor sought to bring me back - to remain adept: Accept their social norms and rules; uphold the elite’s ideological line. With unfurled wings, in elegant beauty, falcon flew into the sky. With menace she spiralled, soared, circled calling me, I her prey. She hunted my murmurings, beak sharp to mangle my trust, talons poised to wrench freedoms back; Great wings, shadows of despair closed in. So I averted my eyes, till they fell upon Christ, and Christ hid me. The falcon flew by, and I unseen, in His presence do trust and journey on.
A poem from Vocation as Resistance © Craig A. Roberts 2022.
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