O Silent Morning

It’s a peaceful morning
on quite mountains;
In a distant mountain range,
an eagle’s cry pierces the dawn
and shatters the morning calm.

The mist rises from the vales
as Kalen climbs the mountain sides.
His radiant countenance chasing
away the nights dark veil;
and the mist rises from the vale.

The eagle circles once, then twice
& takes the dive;
It’s prey bounding unwarily
in the open field.
The eagles talons spread, sharp
& ready to wield.

The rabbits blood lays on the field,
the bird twenty feet in the air;
the bunny’s mangled body
hanging from it’s feet.
If you could hear,
the only sound would be the wing’s beat.

As this work of art flies west –
Kalen launches himself full into the sky;
his light creates rainbows –
below in the rising mists
and the rays dance across the eagles back & tail.

wil becker
1993.06.13