To produce my foot, my each feather:
Now I hold Creation in my foot
Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly -
I kill where I please because it is all mine.
There is no sophistry in my body:
My manners are tearing off heads -
The allotment of death.
For the one path of my flight is direct
Through the bones of the living.
No arguments assert my right:
The sun is behind me.
Nothing has changed since I began.
My eye has permitted no change.
I am going to keep things like this.
The hawk thinks that its eye (or I) is only thing that could  authorize change. But: “I am going to keep things like this” is convenient for its delusions about itself. Nothing changes, which is what it intends. Note that hawks have exceptional eyesight. 
 
 It refers to its ‘eye’ and not its ‘mind’, as if its control relates to what it sees, presumably prey, rather than logical thought processes. This brings to mind a dictator who sees and commands, and is so accustomed to power that he doesn’t have to think through the consequences.
Hawk Roosting