You are the eagle.
I am the pretty, pink rose you grasp in your talons.
Your grip is firm, though my thorns prick your scaly skin.
I am a flying flower!
Together we grace the sky with strength and beauty.
Together we symbolize the all-seeing eye and the eternal offering.
You scan the land for signs of distress, disturbance, discontent, disaster,
Swooping down only when the need is dire,
Proffering me only to those with no hope left.
Telling each forlorn soul to reach out and touch me,
Assuring them that it is Acceptable to pluck a single baby-pink petal,
To keep in remembrance of our visit,
As a reminder that someone was watching,
Someone cared,
Someone is there to hear their call.
No one is ever alone.
My petals are special.
They never wilt or tear.
An eon could go by,
And still each would be
As fresh and fragrant
As when they were attached to me.
They carry my essential essence.
They exude motherly-love.
You are the deliverer,
In more than one sense.
I am the gift.
Together we bring all hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem