The Eagle Rises

Mostly a vision, 
A speck in the heavens, 
Near imperceptible swirling about 
In an ocean of blue and white, 
Riding the currents, 
Filling its sails with billowy wisps 
Of nothing and everything 
In perfect repose.

Gliding in circles, 
All seeing, 
All seeking, 
All waiting to dive 
With the swiftness of lightning 
To capture 
To crush 
To devour with delight,

Then once sated, 
Wants abated, 
To rise again, 
To soar.

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