Perched on an outcropping of rust red granite
Worn rough and rounded from age
Was a small Mexican leopard eagle.
Its spotted head and the smell of sage
Dominated my senses as I stood, hidden, below.
Few ever see this magnificent raptor in the wild
And knowing there was magic in this moment,
I retreated to the eyes I wore as a child,
Beholding more than I could ever appreciate
Silent and waiting, I watched as it took flight
And continued my vigil until the winged creature
Was long out of my sight.
Little of all there is here in Texas
Ever makes me want to stay
Fortunately, the gift I received this morning,
Makes me accept that this is my way.