[Fox_Child]: 439.My Poetry.The Guardian

Once upon a sunny day
While blackbirds crow and bluebirds play,
A king of skies takes wing.
Who is this king of whom I speak?
Of feathered crown and talon’d feet
He is known as the Guardian.

It twas I who saw him first,
On tangled bough he sought his perch
Watching us like Hawk, his kin.
Who was this kin of Hawk I spied?
Of noble birth, and watchful eye, Guardian

He took wing with Brother Wind.
I thought I’d ne’er see him ‘gain.
How wrong was I when he lighted.
Who is this phantom on the wind?
On lordly wings, Guardian.

Each time we neared, he would fly,
His mighty wings consuming sky.
As if in warning he would soar.
Whose silver wings wed azure sky?
Twas the Guardian.

In this place where Tree bows down
To offer leaves 'pon molten crown
Of River’s sunny bank.
Who be the Lord of this realm?
With earthen crown, the Guardian.

Of royal birth and gilded wings,
He sings a song that deaf ears hear
Perched on twisted throne of wood.
Who is this Guardian King?

I suppose we shall not know
Whether lordly King of flesh and bone
Or spirit of another world,
Sent by force unseen.
Be it latter or the first
I suppose it matters not.
He will vanish on silver wings
Before we've answers got.

To others he may simply be
Another Great Blue Heron,
But to I, who follows him
He shall be my guiding Guardian.