Eagle's Cry 

     
 

Someone
drum me down!
The earth is too quiet from here
and sometimes silence

is as high as death.
These bones are hollow
and born to fly
till drumed down

to a taloned
grip.
Then
sturdy wings

hold, guide, and lift
the pain and screams
of terrified dreams ingested
to a fine awakening.

A pulse timed now
to rhapsody unleashed
opening wide the steelhead's eye
to the sun and clouds

and the joy of air.
Yet still to swim
in a current of prayer
jumping upstream

to a clearer river of light
and a finer glimpse of silence
beyond the lone piercing whistle
of an eagle's hollow bone

 
 
 
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