The Eagle

Tasneem Hossain

 

The wide blue sky is its domain.

High Mountain tops are where it rests.

Wide wings open from its chest,

The golden eagle then looks its best.

Flies high far from human vision,

Sharp eyes with near perfect precision;

Free it is, mighty lord of the sky

Freedom is its birthright, majestic is its flight.

 

The eagle perched on the tree,

Looked down, ravenous eyes its spirit free.

Looking for prey spotted one with glee;

Quick flapping wings swooped down, lest it flee

Caught in feet, took off victoriously;

 

The small little creature wiggled and wiggled.

Its struggle didn’t help but made it cripple.

The eagle, mighty monarch of the realms

Landed on the high mountains to enjoy its meal;

 

Today, as it swooped to have its feast

Struggled in its fight against its prey, its treat;

Mighty it seems but now its flight is weak;

Broken wings, age withers even the mightiest beings.

 

Fell with a thud, who soared the skiesflying free.

Wriggling in pain its last minutes in agony;

A giant shadow falls and darkens all,

Stares with eyes now dimming,life’s last call;

 

Flying angel with wide wings of endless grace,

Soars majestically with wings open from the chest;

The golden eagle then looks its best.

The progeny now flies through the open space,

Defying sun and floats high above stormy winds;

 

Life goes on with amazing grace.

A calm and peaceful death now it may embrace.