Sunday, June 19, 2011

The Eagle

While winter sprinkles its browns, yellows, and ambers on barks, leaves and shades of human faces, and smoke pouring over roofs, smog over pavements, and while tired souls are hastily walking in agony, I have one question left to ask “what does it take to live a dignified life?”

Is it happiness, comfort and cosiness or is it desires? What does it take I wonder to become an eagle, lonesome, strong, content, solemn, focused to haunt on desires? How can that eagle die without rats and vultures noticing, leave this world in dignity, with nothing but that ancient song left behind and heard beyond the horizon over the Aegean Sea?


Bob MacNeal said...


Thought-provoking post. I don’t know how to live life with dignity, but in my poetry, I have imagined a dignified death.

Kicking Horse

Saint Paul, 24 May 2005

I rest my pikestaff

Against a granite colossus

In defiance, a toast

I tip a metal flask of Jack

To the wilderness

Now reclined

On the cobbled banks

Of the Kicking Horse Reservoir

Sun morsels desert my pupils

I cook until dusk

In the mackinaw of nightfall

Conferences of carrion beetles

Prepare their nurseries

Opening my eye sockets

To some star-lit destiny

Ergun Çoruh said...

Thanks for the complement and by the way beautiful poem Bob (where do you keep you poems, are they on the web somewhere?). Indeed there is something in poetry that provokes thoughts. The best thing about it is you don't have to prove anything :)