>Limping Eagle


It was either custodial
or cathedral.
I entered in with my
spirit bound.
It was freedom that echoed
off the clapboard.
It was splinters that entered
my meniscus.
I cried as exit wounds
revealed an inner light.
For moments I laid there
in the neutral zone.
The Great Spirit came
and I wrestled with the
infused refracted light.
I knew I couldn’t win.
I really didn’t want to.
From some skin deep,
soul deep place I wrested.
It was not the Spirit.
It was myself that I overtook.
It was my stubborn
reflexive pronoun.
I rose in sweat to see
the night swirling,
splashed with colors
replenished by God.
I limped to the window
to look on the glow
of freedom and
thanked God I wasn’t alone.
Just a note:  Sean McCormick, the photoghapher took this shot in Alberta, Canada, in an area called the Nuetrals.  It’s a prairie between two ranges where, centuries ago, different tribes hunted and weren’t allow to go to war.  This photo is copied with permission for One Shoot Sunday.

10 thoughts on “>Limping Eagle

  1. >"It was my stubborn / reflexive pronoun" Such a telling line linguistically, philosophically, and on in the personal way of the speaker. Deep poem, Jerry. Great challenge response!

  2. >A feeling of spirituality that is not reduced to any one religion, a dream quest, and the surrender of self. A fine piece of writing, Jerry. I liked "For moments I laid therein the neutral zone…" and the whole concept of wrestling with the light.

  3. >I cried as exit woundsrevealed an inner light.this two lines really grabbed me Jerry …almost a dark night of the soul that needs it know itself to reveal that inner light…thank you…bkm

  4. >This piece really brought out wondrous works from everyone. Sorry I didn't read it Sunday. I like the spiritual awakening throughout as though the world had been repainted with a different palette. Well done, Gay @beachanny

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