The eagle

While listening to the song, Walking in the Air , by Chloe Agnew and reading Proust’s Swann’s Way a “scene” with “imaginary details”  came like a light.

I look up

top of the tree

I imagine

the precise dive

the swift catch

the elegant rise

the fish clasped tight

between the claws.

“If you are a man

then feel my misery.”

I close my eyes

thinking of Faust

and hear other voices:

“I only beg you now

to follow me.”

“Out there?

Is the world

deserts and forests

sorrows and dreams.

“Thine am I, Father.

Rescue me.”

Voices fade away

and shadows.