The Eagle
Waves that beat on the shore don't touch the stricken face of a small child, but the hourly cry of the eagle off the cliff of the mountains can strangle the soul of even the oldest and wisest of men. Just the sheer joy as the eagle climbs higher and higher, thrusting his head deeper and deeper into the sky trying to break through the threshold, break the glass ceiling that holds us all in, that presses our noses deeper and deeper into the ground. It's as if the eagle wants to free us, but as he puts more and more pressure on that membrane it also puts more and more pressure on our dirt covered noses, so much that the smell of earth becomes a part of us, it runs through our veins, it pulses and scurries through our blood like the small creatures that scurry through the earth itself. So although the eagle gives us a moment of temporary discomfort as we drown in the terra, it is only temporary, and it does save us. For as the eagle climbs higher and higher, and our noses reach deeper and deeper into the soil, we become more in tune with our world and ourselves than we've ever been before, and finally, finally as the eagle comes crashing into the glass ceiling, as he explodes through the shards of a broken world, we are released from this pressure, released from our insanity, and released from the stuffy air. As we finally begin to breathe, the eagle does too, and his first deep breath becomes his last as he used all of his strength to release us from the demon that trapped us. And as he falls, as he falls limp, as his feathers are ruffled by the wind that blows from underneath him, his tongue lolling out from the side of his beak, his eyes closed and a single tear leaks from behind his blue eyelid, sitting, clinging to the small eyelash , there is an oppressive silence, one that has never been known on this earth before. It's a silence so loud, so pressing, that it squeezes every artery, every pore, every bit of space within you. It squeezes the tears out of you, it even forces the most incredible sob from so deep within that you don't even recognize your own voice. It sounds like another being, another soul, another world erupting from inside your lungs, it's as if you are giving life to a new universe, to a new system, it's as if you become God for a second, you are so in touch with life, so aware of each minute change in the direction of the air around you, of each little scratch of each little blade of grass, each little sound of each grain of sand that rolls onto another one because another being moved nearby or because the wind was strong enough to make it budge from it's stationary position. It's as if you are the world because you understand so fully the weight of what the eagle has done, of what he has given up and how he has rescued you. And he falls and falls, miles and miles in a shower of broken shards from the sky until finally he reaches the earth again, momentarily pausing before landing more softly than anything on the softest patch of grass the world has to offer. You run to him, trying to revive him, trying to thank him for saving humanity, saving life, but you know it's too late, not only will you not be able to revive him, but as you come closer and closer to where the eagle lies, golden in the late afternoon, shining in his everlasting glory, the eagle fades, but the spirit sores and the body is entombed within the budding life all around it. The grass and weeds and rocks and mountains and rivers and valleys all come together to create a shrine, to create a tomb to worship him, to protect him, to remember him. He cannot be forgotten though because as nature binds him to the earth, his soul is immortal and the golden shape of the eagle springs forth from the tomb and rises again into the sky singing, yes, singing the most haunting melody. It is not sad however, he is not mourning his own loss; it is jubilant, it is the most tearfully happy sound that this earth has ever known and it brings you to your knees with joy, it makes you collapse because you cannot even grasp the significance of it all, the purpose of it all, your just happy. You tremble with happiness because you are free, free from whatever constraints held you before the eagle came; free from the pressure that was so oppressive, so tyrannical, forcing you to live a life you didn't want to live, forcing you to care about things you shouldn't have to care about. It's the most incredible feeling, feeling alive. It's a new beginning, it's rebirth, it's screaming at the top of your lungs, it's singing out of key, it's bending down, your hands folded in prayer against your mouth, and kissing the ground, no longer forced to breath in the sweet scent of earth, but wishing to because it reminds you of your roots, of the thing that made you, of the only reason why you are alive and can keep on living. It gives you the strength to move on.
