A White Tail Feather

The still of the lake calms my soul
as I wait beneath the willow.
A light breeze moves through her branches
lightly touching my face,
sweeping the hair from my eyes.
An Eagle calls in the distance.

My mind races with pictures and words,
adventures and quests of self and we.
Along the horizon lined with dark blue waters
bursts colors of red and orange.
I offer my asemaa.
An Eagle glides above calling my name.

Morning rises as I answer my old friend.
A gentle ripple forms on the lake
as the wind delivers our greetings to the other.
I hear his calls carried to my open arms,
his words pass through me.
I hear the call of an Eagle leaving with the wind.

He lands on the broken arm of an ash
on the sands of the shore near the willow.
Praising me for walking the path,
many have guided me towards for years.
A choice of life destined to be.
The first tracks are laid down.

He lifts his wings and stretches
to a magnificent size of honor and respect,
wisdom and truth with humility.
He tells me to listen and be open
to what crosses my path
for this is just the beginning.

Rising with every flap of his powerful wings,
he lifts into the blue sky calling his goodbye.
I answer with gratitude and love
as I notice something lying on a rock.
He has left for me a piece of him,
a white tail feather.

River Maria Urke 8/10

care for a reading

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