To Put Into Words

When the soul
feels the
to open itself
like an eagle
expands its wings
to fly
high above
an expanse
of wheat fields,
at the break
of dawn and
at eve of twilight,
even as I hunt
and peck
for the right
of letters
from the alphabet,
to harvest
the wheat,
to pick and pull
from the sheaves,
is what this
writing is;
eye like an eagle,
who searches
for its
next meal,
at the beginning
and end
of each day,
in hopes
the soul might
express itself –
in language.

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