Flapping its mighty and colourful wings,
rising swiftly to the occasion, it is summoned.
The eagle flies.
Free from the snares of its catcher.
On its head a halo,
a crown not of this world,
illuminating its path,
It flutters and flees
into the wispy and dreamy clouds.
Surging through winding swirls of air,
in its tough talons;
dangling a string that once was...
Seraphims and Cherubims sing in heaven,
singing the song you and I heard in yesteryear.
They await the arrival of one of their kind,
The eagle flies, serenity it will find...
By Alex Nyasha Dube (Zimbabwe)
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