Where Eagles Fly Poem by Lady Pattianna Urasz

An Ozark Tale

Where does one go to find the place of Eagles?
Is it always high into the skies they fly?
Can we find them flying low amongst the sea gulls?
Be still, so you can listen to the eagles’ cry.

Do you hear its shrill call upon the currents of the air
And now the return calls from its family at play.
See them now flying as though without a worry or a care
Just above the rocky Ozark Bluffs of brown and reddish clay.

Father rests upon a heavy branch and watches
As fledglings play the currents, switching to and fro
Then chasing one another up and down through cloud patches,
Climbing high, shooting downwards, cackling like a crow.

Mother’s soaring with them, Then standing still in flight
Swooshing down past Father, knocking him off his perch.
Making him join the fun before it is the night.
And feeding time begins, when they begin their search.

Where does one go to find the place of Eagles?
It is not always high into the skies they fly.
They fly low among the colorful varied Ozark gulls.
Be still and listen, you too may hear them if you try.

Patricia Urasz copyright 2009

Our experience with the family of eagles was in 2006. They allowed four human souls to stand across stream from them watching every move they made for 45 minutes. It was a private moment, one we will probably never experience again. One of those solemn times that imprints itself on mind and spirit. I am grateful for that opportunity.
Cane Bluffs, Missouri