But fancy resorts and busy
beaches, with personal water-craft buzzing around, are not for everybody. Quiet
cottage country, a remote lake or stream, or a lesser-populated beach on the
coast, may better suit those more contemplative souls who don’t particularly
intrude into, but observe, nature. They drink in its essence, manifested in its
scents, scenes and sounds, and its fauna and flora.
Today we introduce a fresh
voice from one such soul, Phil Brown – writer, playwright and poet. Phil’s
generously permitted us to post his poem, “King Gull,” inspired by his
observations of one of nature’s ubiquitous birds. I read it several times –
slowly. Reverently.
A young web-footed
gull, a king, destined to soar.
Stretching wings
skyward to catch the breeze,
Hovering high over
the surf and towering trees.
He circles then
seeks those fingerling fish,
That soon will
become his life-giving dish.
His sharp eye sees
the shimmering glow,
As minnows swarm in
the shallows below.
Twisting then
turning he dives to the lake,
Downward he swoops
to the flashing take.
With his appetite
filled, he returns to the sky,
Once again I hear
that high-pitched cry.
Many years have now
passed, his routine is the same,
But time has now
ravaged his aging frame.
The harsh cold
winters have hampered his way,
He’s forced to fly
less, seeking easier prey.
In the end he
settles, feeling the warmth of the sand,
He watches the
others as they soar and land.
Slowly but surely
he closes his eyes,
I shed a tear as
his life’s last ember dies.
I see a new
youngster destined to soar.
Stretching wings
skyward to catch the breeze,
Perhaps it’s my
king over the surf and the trees.*
Our thanks to Phil Brown.
Makes you think, doesn’t it? The cycle of life. A generation passes; a new
generation arises.
Phil’s gull lived
his life well. His physiology – especially his graceful wings – enabled him to
take to flight with ease and soar on the breezes and thermal updraughts. The
gull’s sharp eyesight, his specially designed bill, his skills and instincts
combined to sustain his life through fishing. As an omnivore, scavenging would
have played a part. King Gull was born to soar, until he could soar no more,
finally compensating by modifying his diet and activities.Phil brings heart-touching poignancy to King Gull’s old-age decline and passing. It parallels our human experience. Perhaps we cannot ‘soar’ into the heights of human activity the way we once did, yet God has a promise for His children in their spiritual journey:
“Even youths grow
tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run
and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:30-31 NIV).
He’s my hope. Yours
too?~~+~~
*"King Gull poem – used by author's permission: © Phil Brown, 2015.
The above article was published in Black's weekly column, P-Pep! in The Watford Guide-Advocate, June 25, 2015.
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Peter's second book is a compilation of inspirational articles on a variety of themes from his weekly column. These are interspersed with brief expressions intended to encourage. Ebook edition is now available through Amazon.
ISBN: 978-0-9920074-2-3 (Angel Hope Publishing)
Peter's first book: “Parables from the Pond” – a children's / family book (mildly educational, inspirational in orientation, character reinforcing). Finalist – Word Alive Press. ISBN: 1897373-21-X. The book has found a place in various settings with a readership ranging from kids to senior adults.
Black's inspirational column, P-Pep! appears weekly in The Guide-Advocate (of Southwestern Ontario). His articles have appeared in 50 Plus Contact and testimony, and several newspapers in Ontario.
Black's inspirational column, P-Pep! appears weekly in The Guide-Advocate (of Southwestern Ontario). His articles have appeared in 50 Plus Contact and testimony, and several newspapers in Ontario.
~~+~~
3 comments:
I'm soaring with you, Peter.
Made me think of Jonathan Livingston Seagull - a book I read in my psychology class!
Also reminds me of, and makes me wonder all over again about the seagulls that appear out of nowhere in this rural community once the fields are being plowed. Gulls are brave creatures and such lovely visuals in Phil Brown's poem.
Love that 'hope-filled' scripture, too, Peter! Thanks.
Thanks David and Glynis.
Hmm, Jonathan Livingston Seagull - seems vaguely familiar, although I definitely hadn't read it. I'll have to mention it to Phil.~~+~~
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