The eagle soars high above the mountain,
the unseen wind of destruction elsewhere,
propels her forward with majesty and grace.
Facing into a thousand storms, unmoved,
the cliff stands firm against them all,
carved by time, she still stands tall.
The scorched ground hugs close to mother earth,
her back exposed, black and burnt,
gives rise to fresh signs of growth,
now the fire has gone.
The cleft tree split in two,
once stood in resplendent growth,
she grows once more, bows new and fresh,
the visiting lightening, long gone.
The rock, her back exposed,
washed with ocean force,
the water pooled, leaks slowly out,
now the storm is moving on.
The horses thunder across the plain,
the threat unseen and long away,
they run now, beauty in their form.
The ocean falls and rises,
its choreographer the moon,
the unseen force of gravity,
it’s dance directs.
Your steadfast love,
through sickness and death,
clings strong to my heart,
in bonds unseen.
