Travel alone

 

Eagle flies over the wasteland

eagle soars over rocks to the sea

and there it reaches

a chorus of voices

oh, the hour of prayer is open

even the rocks whisper and exhale

and the wind lifts

in a rush of feather

the warmth of mercy

on the way to the clouds

and the sight of sun.

I travel alone

to the end of the world.

Called home to the shining north

with torch gates in sight

eagle swoops

with folded wings

and straightens itself

before surface of water

torches color every ripple

eagle swift as an arrow

time entangled in its most tens spring

just stay awake

so high in your bone marrow

femur bones hold the measure

of your thoughts.

I travel alone

to the end of the world.