Arrogant is the one whose strength is measured by brute power
Young sinewy muscle straining against the current
Forging on, bulldozing the opposition
Brute strength negates that wear and tear will some time take its natural toll
Plying the mind to wonder why the frame will not hold up as usual
I want to speak about the eagle
I want to share its golden paths with you
I want to soar the clear open skies and ride the treacherous storms
Beholding the flight of an eagle
Appreciating its long talons, its wing span, its sharp eyes …. Its cry
My heart is captivated by its flight
My breath almost mingling with its heart beat, as its soars, my spirit rises
Above the clouds, darkening now, thundering and how
No fright for me, the smell of the storm, sends excitement through me… beholding the eagle
I hear its cry…mingling with mine
As it heads for the sun, like a warrior on the run
Bravery builds up in me, as it flies the clouding skies
I am not afraid, I hear its cry, within me…my spirit echoes
Higher and higher it climbs... it beckons, my spirit to arise
I want to speak of the strength of an eagle, broken by choice in its sunset years
Naked and dejected alone in its own dross
Shedding weighty feathers, that once faithfully took on the heights
Now piled around like filth, dashed against bleeding skin, what was known torn away to allow for the new
Failed strength, wings that can no more take flight, broken beak, voiceless cry, watching the skies while others fly...
I want to speak of the heart of an eagle, a choice not to live again in worldly pursuit
A choice not to grope with the mundane, the irrelevant the temporal
A heartbroken, with new sprout of feathers, new strength, new resolve
To fly once more, a broad back to carry a loftier load, to carry the creators original code
To forge on for better grander far nobler things
That to which the creator desires
As the eagles soars
I fly within
By T. Walmsley
