The Eagle’s Nest Poem by Anita Atina

There, high up on the top most branch of that tall slender tree

Is a rough-hewn nest swaying with the breeze

How did the eagle knows its just the right place

For its spartan home, that holds a tiny brood

To which a gentle breeze, sings lullabies


The oft changing winds blow through this home

And yet, this nest snuggles safe in its bower

That tree swaying elegantly in the breeze

An eagle soaring high above, lifted by the wind

That blows through its home, far below


Have learnt to live with the essential nature of polarity

Not fighting what is

But working with it

Were they not to live together

We would have …


A stiff tree, bent with fatigue

Eagles, that didn’t soar

A brood, killed before their time

A safe nest that overburdened the branch and fell

As a sad listless wind, sighed!


The truth is, even the best nests fall

But then life restores balance

And the eagle builds another tenacious nest

So why should we turn our backs

Cowering against the strong winds of change!