This morning of a sunny winter’s day
I saw two specks against the bluest sky.
On thermals circled predators on high.
Two floating flecks, they searched the ground for prey,
Carefree, and kings of all that they survey.
Do these great birds in joyous spirit fly
Or simply soar to reach a place to spy?
How can we know? The eagles will not say.
And man who claims dominion from his birth,
In truth has not the freedom of these birds
Who gaze uncaring on the human herds;
On man the wisest creature of the earth.
But could they trade their liberty for words,
They’d surely judge their wings of greater worth.