The great Dusky swifts imagine the life they lead

Precarious nesting
Wild Birds that dare
To nest around waterfalls
So so aware
Of the crashing torrents
Riverine souls
Their hearts in their mouths
Adversorial roles

Brazil and Bolivia sees them at play
Struggles and hardship
Every day
Their visitation
Luckless they be
And their brethren apparent
Fledgelings we see

On slippery rocks
Unbelievable forces
Calamitous water spirts
Out of the sources
Of heaven on earth
On the white water road
They flit between life and death
Seemingly owed
A mass of good fortune
A deluge of soul
Some washed away
Just lost all control

Backwards and forwards
They flit through the sky
Surviving and thriving
Under ledges they lie
Tiny matchstick legs
Up against the great falls
Through great clouds of spray
The devils throat calls

The fledglings are ready
They are shaking with fear
A great arena a tussle it’s clear
Entrenched in believing
The first flight will be
Full on bravura
And real constancy

Natural and innocent
Unaffected they be
On the slippery rocks
One can hardly see
Where they are flying to
Pure artistry
Born of the wing
With the want to be free.