The Eagle Rises

Mostly a vision,

A speck in the heavens,

Near imperceptible swirling about

In an ocean of blue and white,

Riding the currents,

Filling its sails with billowy wisps

Of nothing and everything

In perfect repose.

 

Gliding in circles,

All seeing,

All seeking,

All waiting to dive

With the swiftness of lightning

To capture

To crush

To devour with delight,

 

Then once sated,

Wants abated,

To rise again,

To soar.

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