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Robinson Jeffers - Shiva

There is a hawk that is picking the birds out of our sky,
She killed the pigeons of peace and security,
She has taken honesty and confidence from nations and men,
She is hunting the lonely heron of liberty.
She loads the arts with nonsense, she is very cunning
Science with dreams and the state with powers to catch them at last.
Nothing will escape her at last, flying nor running.
This is the hawk that picks out the star's eyes.
This is the only hunter that will ever catch the wild swan;
The prey she will take last is the wild white swan of the beauty of things.
Then she will be alone, pure destruction, achieved and supreme,
Empty darkness under the death-tent wings.
She will build a nest of the swan's bones and hatch  a new brood,
Hang new heavens with new birds, all be renewed.

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Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 201 times | Comments and analysis of Shiva by Robinson Jeffers Comments (0)

Shiva - Comments and Information

Poet: Robinson Jeffers
Poem: Shiva
Year: Published/Written in 1937
Poem of the Day: Feb 2 2005
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