far above circles eagled eyes
wings lap air, seeking truth. any truth
upon a field of reddening snow
spired spears of fir stand vigil to the now dead
fallen they lay, remorseless in their rest
wind listens to their whispered secrets and repeats
although there are none remaining whom to tell
blackened clouds descend, beating silence with cacophony and ca-caws
ravenous beaks pluck at whatever of this story lingers
circling aloft, somewhere between hell and heaven
eagle watches this story, writ in men, disappear into gulps
where has the melody it once chased gone, when it was sparrow
and morning rose up to greet it in glorious birth of song
now all descends out of light and into shadows
robin-egg azure has molted into a flock of carmine shades
as one battleground fades away below
above the horizon the oldest battle rolls into reveal
telling of when Crow, hungry to return to youth, ate all of time
and Eagle, enraged that all glory in battle was beyond recall
fought as only siblings could for eons beyond count
till both dying, fell to cover all the heavens in their blackness
only their mortal wounds now let in the All Mother’s light
more eons past till her light seeped out and found root once again
in moon and sun, and birds descended upon waiting boughs
and saw the world once again, albeit diminished deeply
all former glory gone, all song muted
and all but the simplest melodies remained
there is no more sound below to hear
no hearts to beat out a rhythm except for a fools’ march now ended
eagle turns now away from below’s fugue
just as it had when it was once a human boy
when instead of toiling toward manhood, war, and glory
choose differently, and instead perched on oak as child sparrow
singing one note upon another note. a simple tune forgotten,
one so much different than the below silence which now echoes
