October 2, 2008


its hard to soar with the eagles

when my hands are bloodstained

from clutching at the mountain

I want so much to fly

and fear the fall

were I to release my hold

it would be long

and calamitous

but I see them sail

effortlessly upon the wind

their songs of joy assail my soul

(once it had its own)

and I weep

purpose failed

direction lost

I lay huddled against this Rock

unable to do more than breathe

longing for my chance

though it never come again


even so

I will praise my God


It's Hard to Soar with the Eagles
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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