Friday, April 6, 2012

When the Eagle Cries













The morning before your 58th birthday

you called me from bed;

I heard your call

and knew you were close by,

it was time to rise.

I watched your gaze

from the tall Fir tree,

and then you called again,

long and with meaning.

You looked well

healthy and ready for the day.

A single small feather

from your chest fluttered down,

curling toward neighbouring

Cedar and Fir;

I watched,

wondering if I could

see where it landed,

if it made it to earth.

You lifted your wings

gathering brown body under you

tucking strong legs up,

and flew west.

I watched you fly away

and thanked you for stopping by

to call me into the day and

remind me you are well

this dawn before

your 58th birthday.

Title borrowed from Joanne Shenandoah:
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wUYKWSf7UDo (music starts at 23 sec.)

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