It's time to open the window
To see the single tree
hoping to fly early to be free
to find a place faraway
so,there I will have a better stay
waking up by sunshine top of the mountain 
there are animals you can countin
bears and wolve of here are kinder than some people
they only treat you like an eagle

I'm not gentle nor cultivated bland
It's the wolf howling from my inside.
Its brunning my nerve and brain by
rising the blood flow within my vain.
It's the time for my struggle for liberation.
I'm not the  lamb nor domestic civilized
my wild heart calling, from rib caged inside.
Its want to stain red by shine of the sun
or see you hunting, shoot down by your gun.
It's the time for my struggle to wild liberation.
So, I refuse this poison,
break the prison and fly like the eagle
Yes I am wild and I love to be..

That Feeling ©

Maybe it's the snow-capped mountains piercing the clouds with their magnificence

Maybe it's the tall green pines that have been here since before
Columbus's birth and are over thirty stories high

Maybe it's the roaring river cascading down the mountainside
To the valley below with its salmon defying logic and odds

Maybe it's the rocky ledge so subtly shaped by glaciers thousands of years ago

Maybe it's the smell of the ocean air that greets you in the morning

Maybe it's the pod of killer whales playing alongside the island ferry

Maybe it's the ocean going vessel like a ghost ship on its way to parts unknown

Maybe it's the sight of a soaring eagle gliding oh so effortlessly through the blue skies

Maybe it's the sound of a baby deer born within earshot of a friend

Maybe it’s the fragrance exuded by the myriad of flowers of varying shapes and colors

Maybe it's the sunrise and sunset that makes you gaze in awe

Maybe it's the open arms that greet you when you return home.

And that feeling, it is the knowing that you are exactly
Where you are meant to be

Andreas Simic©

The eagle can't soar.

Left wing and right wing
Working together in harmony,
And the eagle can be seen
Soaring beautifully, gloriously.

When the left and the right
Have between them a wall,
And continuously fight
Then the eagle will fall.

Alas, the wings are both broken
And the eagle is grounded.
Big dreams that will never be spoken
Amidst the din that has sounded.

acknowledged
the violets in the window box are pungent
sitting on this old wooden floor
ankle over ankle
eyes closed
grounded
connected
intertwined with consciousness
i press my tongue to the back of my mouth
create a vibration
nung nung nung
the amethyst vacillation
it pulses from the root of my skullcap
i am united
with everything around me