The Eagle

eaglephoto © 2009 Donna H. Chiarelli

 The Eagle, by e.e. cummings



It was one of those clear,sharp.mustless days

        That summer and man delight in.

Never had Heaven seemed quite so high,

Never had earth seemed quite so green,

Never had the world seemed quite so clean

Or sky so nigh.

        And I heard the Deity’s voice in

            The sun’s warm rays,

        And the white cloud’s intricate maze,

And the blue sky’s beautiful sheen. 


I looked to the heavens and saw him there,–

        A black speck downward drifting,

Nearer and nearer he steadily sailed,

Nearer and nearer he slid through space,

In an unending aerial race,

       This sailor who hailed

       From the Clime of the Clouds.–Ever shifting,

            On billows of air

        And the blue sky seemed never so fair,

And the rest of the world kept pace. 


On the white of his head the sun flashed bright;

        And he battled the wind with wide pinions,

Clearer and clearer the gale whistled loud,

Clearer and clearer he came into view,–

Bigger and blacker against the blue.

        Then a dragon of cloud

        Gathering all its minions

            Rushed to the fight,

        And swallowed him up in a bite;

And the sky lay empty clear through.


Long I watched.   And at last afar

        Caught sight of a speck in the vastness;

Ever smaller,ever decreasing,

Ever drifting,drifting awayInto the endless realms of day;

        Finally ceasing.

        So into Heaven’s vast fastness

           Vanished that bar

Of black,as a fluttering star

Goes out while still on its way.


So I lost him.   But I shall always see

            In my mind

The warm,yellow sun,and the ether free;

The vista’s sky,and the white cloud trailing,

        Trailing behind,–

And below the young earth’s summer-green arbors,

And on high the eagle,–sailing,sailing

        Into far skies and unknown harbors

~ by dutchghetto on April 21, 2009.

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