I saw a golden eagle
with a bloody wing,
head feathers disheveled.
The crow was aiming to bother eagle,
because he could.....
when he saw what he thought was weakness.
The look in the eyes of the eagle said,
"I am still strong, and in no mood for a dual",
knowing his heaviness is now a burden,
not a weapon, not an advantage.
In the face of suffering or death,
he hangs on to his strength,
to the memory of the days he conquered,
sleekness on the wind,
and soaring with the rising sun.
Nature is the great equalizer. Everything in balance, always healing. Evocative writing