Sunday, April 22, 2012
Into the Eye of God
Into the eye of God
you dive,
black white-tipped arrow,
forsaking the sky
and life
to grip more of it.
Flying in the realm of water
oh heavy boat,
mighty oars plunge forward.
You gauge the shortest distance.
Calculate the weight and struggle
in your talons.
The beach is a door
you enter half water/half air,
a dark figure in a dripping coat
grasping at the windows.
Half of you is an explosion,
a black bloom, your tail is the flower.
After that is the prayer time.
The wings come up and open.
Drawn across your parachutes
are navigational symbols,
the ancient text.
I wonder who reads it.
The warm light brushes off the weight
of your feathers.
You jump into the air
and the fish, by then gladly,
goes too.
dedicated with love to Dotty
April 22, 2012
Labels:
bald eagle,
fishing,
Pacific Northwest poetry,
Seattle poetry,
trout
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Thank you Flood for such beautiful words and pictures.
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