An Imperfect Journey
All Writing is by Deborah Hollins
Monday, March 28, 2011
I saw a bald eagle perched high in a tree,
surrounded by tiny boisterous birds
making quite a fuss;
chirping and squeaking, darting and diving,
madly flapping their wings.
Appearing amused by all the kerfuffle,
the eagle calmly sat;
simply tilting his head
this way and that.
I thought to myself,
This must be how Spirit sits among us
as we run around,
tweeting and twirling and flapping our wings...
as if we have something better to do
then to rest in the majesty of Spirit.
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