Riding Eagle !
The Night is dead, first shiny glow
which tenderly possess
the Stones, the Earth, a Glamour Show
of dancing Lights, I guess.
The Wideness of this Scenery
amidst enormous Rocks
Is boundless big and endlessly,
With Guardians in Blocks.
Scant Vegetation is immersed
in red-orange and gold,
The Colours floating and dispersed
like Diamonds to behold.
But in that Countryside along
Is mixed a magic tune,
The Sound varies from soft to strong,
This Mystery solved soon.
An Eagle riding on his Bike
through rusty, sun-drenched Air,
The humming wheels are on a hike
to reach the sky, a dare.
The Being keeps the wheels in rein,
Sheer Freedom in his eyes,
Tough Muscles press them back to lane
Steel wings, which nearly flies.
Untamed and keen, the Hair wind-blown
Controls breath-taking speed,
He drives a race, …or maybe flown?
Horizon reached, indeed.
A proud creature wrapped in Light,
but no more sound was heard,
Just my desire was in sight,
No Feather and no Bird.
The Eagle was a manly Being,
Fulfilled my burning wish,
Cause … I’m allowed to watch this scene,
The Man, … named William Smith !
June 2010 © Maria Wigo
(Wiltrud Maria Gödde) Germany