WITNESS
In the ethereal glow of the morning light,
the great gray eagle soars in alert awareness;
keeping watch on that fledgling;
that product of love fertilised by hate,
that small eagle
who must now hunt and grow and know
herself and her kind.
A nest,
on the lone tree atop the tallest ridge
in the valley of blood red canyons
silhouetted against the cerulean sky
and inundated with pain,
is now empty.
The serpents of the underworld sacked that nest
(in a time of war's horror, but not in war)
and killed the mother of the small eagle
who was the sister of the great gray eagle.
Wrapped in the warmth of the morning light,
the small eagle was nurtured and grew powerful
under the gentle teachings of the wise gray eagle
who kept, even unto the death,
the secrets of his powerful and terrible retribution.
Such is the spirit that has become Small Eagle
Such is the wisdom of the great Gray Eagle
Such is the warmth of love of the Morning Light
Such is the enduring friendship of Sky Eyes
Such is my honour to record...
©Copyright April 6, 2002 by Anthony W. Pahl
For my friend, Rebecca SaraAnne Gray Eagle (nee Small Eagle) whom I love