Glory Days

A pair of redtails shriek
their call to vespers;
our eyes turn heavenward
because we know
--we know--
the sound of glory.
We know holiness
when we hear it.
Even though 
all that is holy, 
all that was
in the beginning,
is now and
ever shall be
is in dirt and roots,
whispering leaves,
blazing sun,
drowsing cats,
open-hearted yarrow,
tongue-teasing strawberry,
even...
yes, even
in the egg-carrying spider...
still our eyes turn heavenward,
hearts aching to join
the joy-full,
blessedly glorious
dance of the hawks.