Instinct

Far up, where first the sunlight touches earth
When dawn lets go and day drops from the sky
In stillness near the nest which saw his birth
A golden eagle prays for strength to fly.
The days drag on; the hunger stings his soul,
As mind and spirit yearn to conquer air.
His dreams become the part that makes him whole
And instinct is a name for answered prayer.
At last the plea is answered with a sign
As rays of sunshine turn a brilliant gold
Confirming him in light by God’s design
Which blinded us, but made the eagle bold.
Though lesser souls would starve at that great height
We too can pray to take a chance at flight.

John H. Bidwell