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January 8, 2013

Eagle in flight

There is a child that I must find.

Lost in mists
that part only for
and sharp-edged truth.

I have glimpsed her,
this little one, as
I followed the faint, winding trail of her passing.

I will take her hands and
I will take her through the mists to sunny green slopes
turbulent blue waters and
rainbow spliced skies.

And I will
teach her to fly with the wind as a mother.

But the storm clouds gather and together we must face them
this child and I.

With no arms to protect, no champion to defend, no justice
when the wind, the lightning, the hail and darkness came,
she stepped silently away into the mists.

We will face the dark,
the lightning and great howling winds.
This child and I.

But first
There is a child that I must find.

The helping hand

The Choice

All photos and writing copyright J.A. Siderius 2013

From → Poetry, writing

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