Eagle's Nest


Hunters, shaman, watchers gather,
pillars of the sky are seen,
boiling nests, creations lather,
birth beyond imagining

 _________________ ... across the plains of wilderspace.

For we have cracked the vault of heaven,
spilt angels into emptiness,
with visions ever-widening
even God must search for grace.

Four mighty trees, but fragile sticks
stretched over heaven's span,
now root an empty crucifix
deep in celestial sands.

That bend to neither prayer nor pride
what goeth there before the fall,
through corridors where stars collide
and galaxies are swallowed whole.

Long centuries our myths have slept
among those ghostly clouds,
blood-dimmed stories tightly stitched
within an earthly shroud.

The veil of innocence is torn,
our muse condemned to silence
before the place of shadows born
in rookeries of violence.

Where poets, dreamers, madmen see
beyond the eagle's lair,
by some remote geometry
the falcon's widening gyre.

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