The Monarch Of The Sky. Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A tiny spark, a golden gleam,
Inside an egg, a silent dream.
Fed by white, it starts to grow,
A little life, you'd never know.

With a sharp tooth, it breaks the shell,
Into the air, a story to tell.
A mountain nest, so clean and high,
Beneath a vast and watchful sky.

Parents bring food, day by day,
But soon the nest, it blocks the way.
Soft beds are gone, the twigs are hard,
A push, a fall, a life unbarred.

A moment's fear, a dizzying flight,
Then wings beat fast, with all their might.
Instinct takes hold, a powerful surge,
The sky awaits, the eagle's urge.

If it stumbles, parents dive,
To catch and teach, to keep alive.
Again and again, the lesson's learned,
Until the sky, the eagle's earned.

With age, the feathers start to fade,
A silent climb, a choice is made.
On jagged peaks, a painful art,
New beak, new claws, a brand new start.

Old parts fall off, so sharp and bright,
A waiting game, in lonely light.
Then from the edge, a mighty leap,
Renewed and strong, secrets to keep.

It catches wind, a silent ride,
Above the clouds, with graceful stride.
A master of the air, so free,
The eagle soars, for all to see.