Poem: Three eagles

Climbing up jagged peak,
led by myself,
a glowing being of sorts.
There was neither sun nor moon,
but the light of heaven.
Left alone, my hands struggled
against the large grey boulders
along the winding path.
My feet stayed grounded through narrow passage
dotted with sweet smelling sage.
At the height of my walk-about,
I turned the corner at the precipice to find three eagles much much larger than me,
proudly feasting on carrion.
Two I could tell, didn’t have a mind for my presence,
bowed in their bloody discourse.
One eagle with golden eyes and wearing a white hood
looked at me intently,
longer than forever,
continuing to tear flesh from
what laid before this great bird and his counterparts.
He said in this my dream, “be sure to call it withered foul.
Let yours not be a forgotten nation.
I have been your over-watch
from the bleak morning
to brightest horizons.
The mountains have been your block to evil hoards,
safe from the elements,
greater risks to your otherwise peaceful life.
Your heart, if it is true,
will help you find your way off the barren mountain
to greater pastures.”

His great wings mightily flapped.
This symbol of our great nation,
lifted himself into the air
with the other two in a triangular formation
headed north.
What they left behind in their nest was the carcass of all plagues,
an old way of doing things.
Mirrors of our repeated history,
the consumption of poisons
and dangerous programming,
what old prophets and sages
called spells from
the worst of social devices.

What lay rotting there
was my enemy.

Published by: frankmarquezwritings

I'm a writer, and have been for most of my adult life. Without making this sound like a resume, I wrote creatively in college, dabbling in poetry, short stories and play writing. Later, I became a journalist, public affairs specialist, copy editor and eventually a guy who ran his own newspaper. Now, I'm back to letting my imagination run wild in some new creations including a science-fiction novel. Somehow, I also managed to teach English to high school kids, and roam the battlefields of Afghanistan as a field historian. Field historian may be a misnomer considering all I did was write abstracts summarizing military unit profiles and missions that included hundreds of interviews of troops and contractors in combat. I grew up in a small town called Gering, Nebraska, before escaping to Pomona, California, where I spent my last two years of high school, graduating from Ganesha High School in 1983. I have a Bachelors in English from the University of La Verne (1987), and a Masters in Education from UNLV (2007). In between, I worked for government - the Army and TSA. I served tours in Panama, D.C., and Tokyo, all thanks to a teacher who encouraged me to see the world before I settled down. As hobbies, I run, hike and bicycle long distances. I have also been known to surf and ski. I now live in my hometown after moving back in June 2015. I get to see family on a regular basis, breath fresh air, and not have to ride the D.C. metro or get stuck in traffic. In fact, I ride my bicycle whenever I can. I'm happily married to my wife Lisa, and we watch over a pack of fur babies, our dog Charley, and three cats Spike, Bootsy, and Franky (his shelter name). If you should ever visit me in west Nebraska, be prepared to feast your eyes on paradise.

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