Changing the seer,

the ground beneath and

circulation within,

in asking for this, I surrender,

for candle-flicker

moments.

Yet the moments expand

as a stranglehold of my brain loosens.

Yesterday,

bald eagle sailed–

she really does sail–

through currents of air unseen

while held aloft close to unmoving.

I’ve much to unlearn, hands of habit

to release,

both mine and not.

Ever more is asked of us to become

what we are intended to become.

Watching the slow wave wings

of white bodied, brown feathered eagle,

a glimpse of what magic surrounds us,

the Spirit of which we are made,

up-lifts me too,

reminding me of the spring that never runs dry.