as when the eagle

if i could be a mountain
standing tall,
i’d be the first to feel the
raindrops fall;
and when the morning sun gets
out of bed,
i’d be the first to watch the
skies turn red.

if i could be lithe raindrops
slanting down,
i’d gently bathe the great, big
sprawling town;
i’d quench the cows and heal their
mournful moos
and send quiet flowers dancing
where i choose.

if i could be the radiant
morning sun,
i’d kiss the trees and watch the
rivers run
between the rushes tangled
in their tracks.
i’d pause to see sweet little
birds relax.

i may not be a mountain,
rain, or sun,
but lo, my life has only
just begun:
i shall, one day, grow tall and
cool and bright,
as when the eagle spreads its
wings in flight.

© Copyright 2019 April 16
by Clyve A. Bowen♫