The Poetry of Pavel Chichikov


NEW! See Pavel's photos at Pavel's Camera. Check out the hawk on Domestic and Wild.

Pavel's latest collection of poems, So Tell Us, Christ, is now available from Amazon in both paperback and Kindle formats. The cover art is "El Salvador"  by El Greco, from the Museo del Greco in Toledo.

Ave Maria University's Special Collections include printed, digital, and recorded materials by Pavel Chichikov. The university is currently developing a new Website.

Pavel's A House Rejoicing is available at, in print and on Kindle, and at Barnes & Noble. The cover art is "The Little Festive House," by Lisa Lorenz. From Here to Babylon is also available in print and on Kindle.

 Lion Sun: Poems by Pavel Chichikov, published by Grey Owl Press, is available at Amazon. Also by Pavel are Mysteries and Stations in the Manner of Ignatius  and Animal Kingdom, from Kaufmann Publishing.

Pavel's poems inspired by Goya's etchings are at

Sylvia Dorham's moving The Book of Names is available at See Pavel's review on the book page!

Poet Charles Van Gorkom's blog may be found here.

All poems on this page are by Pavel Chichikov. They may be freely distributed, if not for profit, upon the permission of Pavel Chichikov ( and must be credited to Pavel Chichikov. No alterations in the text may be made. All copyright restrictions apply.

Please note: Pavel has no connection with CivFanatics and never has had.





Bald Eagle and Eggs

Image courtesy of Pennsylvania Game Commission, HDOnTap and Comcast Business






Waiting for the eagle chick to hatch

A chip appears in one end of the egg

As if a door suspended from a latch


The house within about to be vacated

By something ready to move on at last

Because there is a journey to be started


The embryo must breathe between the shell

And membrane that has sheathed the growing life

Absorb the blood and yolk inside the cell


Acquiring the energy to fracture

The wall between a dark and fetal sleep

The freedom of an eagle’s soaring rapture


The living soul an embryo that waits

Within the strict circumference of a room

The door is open but it hesitates






Bald Eagle Chicks, Washington, DC

© American Eagle Foundation





An eaglet breaks the ivory wall

(No longer blind, immobile, curled)

Through which it heard the bright winds call


Departs the egg all dressed in down

Insulation white and soft

But cannot bear itself aloft


When it fledges you will see

How well the fledging takes to air

Departs the nest and natal tree


Flowing wind its proper home

An eagle sees all things below

Has knowledge of all winds that blow


So must we leave the nest and soar

On winds we never knew before






Bald Eagle and Hatchlings

Image courtesy of Pennsylvania Game Commission, HDOnTap and Comcast Business





Eaglets stir beneath the eagle’s breast

On the yellow ground beneath there grows

A crop of Pennsylvania Winter Cress


Chicks above, below the ground gives birth,

The warming sun has proven its paternity

By wakening the antenatal earth


Magnolia buds swell up like beads of cotton,

The lightest tinge of green has smeared the hedges,

Melt beneath the conifers is black with tannin


On a neighbor tree there sits a sentinel

To watch and guard the eaglets as they fatten

But none of it considered is a miracle


This contemplation comes by mental growth

But how does thought grow swiftly in the mind

Which has no seed or antecedent, both?







Mom and Dad Bald Eagle

(Chicks are hidden underneath Mom.)

Image courtesy of Pennsylvania Game Commission, HDOnTap and Comcast Business





The eagle’s golden beak is red with gore

The flesh of prey to feed its chicks it tore

To satiate the new-born predators


That all must die for others is the rule

Taught by nature’s necessary school

For some the beak and talon are the tools


The world’s economy is such that they

Take and give who are the sometime prey

Of something else until they all decay


If in this world the flesh was never dead

The heat produced would turn the planets red

Bodies not the stars fill space instead


But there was One alone on Easter day

Who came from death to give Himself away

He was the quarry and the living prey






Mount Sinai

Courtesy The Torah






As he ascended Sinai’s hill

The slope grew steeper as he climbed,

The air was soundless, cold and still

The footing stubborn, slow was time


Upward towards the pinnacle

The light was deep and luminous

Close and unapproachable,

The measure of each step was less


He had the sense he could ascend

Forever and not reach the peak,

That every step might never end

Nor would the Glory ever speak


He lifted into one more stride

Although it took eternity—

Then he heard: “I do not hide

But though you climb you do not see”





American Bullfrog

Courtesy Wikimedia Commons





A doorway on its side: unsinned amens

Peeping mirrors, many voices sing:

Never need for Lent, we have not fallen,

We are the shrill inhabitants of spring


Breathing through our skins, our bulging eyes,

Slimy legs that formerly were fins,

Ceiling ever lower till it dries,

World enough because we have no sins


Merry house we have, a loud uproar

Where only metamorphosis is new

Water walls and shapeless is the door

And all the footloose clouds come walking through




William Brassey Hole (1846–1917), “Elijah in the Desert of Horeb”

Courtesy All Posters





Elijah said: I hear the small still voice

As at the cave’s mouth in the wilderness,

A climax time: The year to come will be

The closing of the long calamity


It will not be the former inundation,

Great fire will devour every nation,

A fire kindled solely by themselves

Each conflagration multiplied by twelves


Because their power is too great for them

The fire tree grows upward from the stem,

The shade of that tall tree will be the dust

To cover both the righteous and unjust


I warned before, I ran before the team

That drew the king of Israel in his dream

Of privileged impunity because

His strength was his immunity from laws


The laws of God and not the rules of man

And so before his chariot I ran,

But now I have withdrawn, may only reach

The ending but I can no longer teach


Old man, I asked, why have you come again?

You tell us what will be and will be when,

He said: Because a remnant there will be

Beneath the spreading of the fire tree



The Poetry of Pavel Chichikov / Last modified March 26, 2017/
Poems copyright 1994-2017, Pavel Chichikov/  
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