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Birgitta Jonsdottir

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Member Since: Before 2003

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The Fall and Rise of the Eagle
by Birgitta Jonsdottir

Thursday, September 19, 2002

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Recent poems by Birgitta Jonsdottir
•  Cry from the Heart Part III
•  Cry from the Heart Part II
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           >> View all 18

I was in the great nest
my mother a restless bird
she nurtured me
with hard to swallow food
she longed to fly free
with the music of the wind singing in her wings
she longed to see me grow faster
so she could claim her freedom
so she pushed me from the nest
before my wings where strong enough
I fell
tried to flap my weak wings
but I fell
down where it was not safe
I did not know where to look for her
I did not know where to mend my broken wings
I walked into many dangers
somehow I survived
I never tried flapping my wings
they healed
but I never trusted them to carry me
the ground world did not know what to make of me
I was lost
I longed for the sky
but didn't know how to reach it
everything was so up close that
I lost my focus

dreams of sky
dreams of flying

I talked to different animals
humans and insects
they told me stories
and some lived with me

I had walked far
and I reached the edge
of the abyss

it called me
I could see birds fly
soar with grace and play
I felt a great pull
like the forces of nature
where pushing me
like my mother pushed me
and standing there
I knew it was up to me to fall or fly
falling flying
I took the leap

and at first I fell and then I could feel
the wind in my wings singing
and I knew what to do
I could see the picture clearly
and I was flying
and I could see that
my time within the world at the ground
was needed
in order to bring
new viewpoints
to the world above

I was flying

no longer a bird without wings
and a tree without roots

I was flying

a child of earth
a child of sky

I am eagle

The Womb of Creation
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Reviewed by Dens Dreamweaver (Reader) 9/19/2002
Oh how well I can relate to this poem.. Excellent write. Welcome to the Den!
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