FREEDOM

Old poem, inspired by the book 'Callanish' by William Horwood.


On the top of the cliffs,
Where the land meets the sea,
Is a wonderful place,
Where the Eagle flies free.

Where the crash of the waves,
Fills the break of the dawn,
The Eagle soars up,
In the light of the morn.

Across lands green and pleasant,
And seas cold and grey,
On thermals he rises,
Seeking his prey.

With each beat of his wings,
With each haunting cry,
He rises higher,
Across the lightening sky.

The skies are his realm,
He is their king,
Gliding gracefully,
The sun on his wing.

In the still quiet air,
Where spirits are free,
The Eagle flies on,
I wish it was me.

To leave the ground,
And fly so high,
Saying to worries,
A brief goodbye.