Dark Eagle

Dark Eagle circles above,

Circling in passes,

Creator speaks, fine lined weave the cloak we wear.

I know this is true,

the silence told me so.

The wind stole this knowledge away from me.

And put it high on a cliff's edge,

where she knew my ego would not go.

Dark eagle circles above,

circling in passes,

shadow cast shadow,

self doubts self.

Separation is a man made thing.

I know this is true,

I asked the wind,

and she whispered it in my ear.

I tasted white.

In my satisfaction,

I craved hunger.

Dark Eagle cries a mournful cry.

In my compassion, I am revealed.

The wind blew cold,

I blamed the discomfort

....and took abandonment on as a bastard child.

I wrote this almost 10 years ago after watching a performance by John Trudell at the WOW Hall in Eugene, a classic venue. I posted it now because it was the only writing I didn't have a print out of, and I was wanting to write it down. So, I thought this was a good a place as any.