athena bell - Thee, thy eagle

Waiting for the eagle
I don't see how patience
so still, so quiet,
can live.

i have none.

The blue, the red, the green

The water, the fire, the earth

The air is white?
No, angels fly in gowns of white,
clouds puff along fluffy and white,
foam of waves bubble white,
but, no,
the air is not white
the air is clear, the air is transparent,
the air has no color.
The air is the light touch of cold on your cheek
the air is the gusts of strength, threatening
the air is the life force, the source of living
the air is free

Now, here, still i wait for the eagle

With eyes transformed I
slipped into a land where,
the air is black,
black as the ink of the predator.
It is black,
and I cannot see.

Still, I wait for the eagle,
to come take me away.
Still, I wait for thee.

athena bell

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thee-thy-eagle/