THE SOLITARY EAGLE

 Dedicated to
RUBURT

In the fall of 1984, I, Ute,
witnessed an event.
Though dreaming, I am wide awake and stand upon a mountain.

I lift my eyes. The blue of sky above me,
against it, clearly visible,
one eagle
flying high. He flies in circles.
I keep watch;
and as I watch
dense clouds begin to form
and cluster ’round and blackly shroud
that mountain top.
Oh, the futility of breaking free!
And yet, this eagle tries.
He flies so high, his circles ever wider,
he’s lost from sight for minutes at a time,
his flight path,
the great spiral of the sky.

I’m tired,
yet I dare not blink.
He knows
each point of the great spiral is also,
point by point,
a point on every tangent.
“No point to ponder further,” he thinks,
“each point seeds universes.”
He makes his move. His flight path changes.
The mighty eagle veers slightly to one side.
Wings tipping in farewell, he breaks the barrier of clouds,
and through a rift I see him to the last.
He’s gone. He’s truly gone.
And in his stead,
a ray of sunshine
illuminates
the sky.

I feel bereft,
a child who’s lost her mother.
I cry.
Then it occurs to me:
Is not this solitary eagle
a symbol of the soul of All That Is
and are we not a part of That?
Are we not also free to roam the seas of inner space, forever?
Then we shall meet again.
I’m happy
and at peace.

.