Remember, good always wins... my teacher said last month, when I told her of the despair I had been struggling with. And I recall Theodore Parker's words, too: The arc of the universe bends toward justice. And Martin Luther King's promise, that we will hew from the mountain of despair a stone of hope.
I suppose this is the essence of faith...the reason I run to the riverside one more time today because I want to see for myself. Too many posted pictures and reported eagle sightings by others; I want to see. I sit and wait...and wait...and minutes later am still waiting when I hear the flutter and looking up-- there it is, wide dark wings and white head directly above me gliding! I am frozen still watching this gift of raw beauty in awe and sight disbelief. But the bald eagle is on her return, and these shores are her nesting grounds.
Birds of prey have followed me the seasons of this year. From barred owl sightings in summer to red tail hawk with snake dangling from talons in the October breeze. I've seen those hawks on the side of the highways, and heard the jealous crows in the winter cold. Terrifying and powerful, wise and majestic, they come as signifiers of transformation. Now is the time for the bald eagle's return.
I write of these birds now on a day when my faith is shaken, when I've seen a little more of the darkness, and tasted a bit more of the fear of this world. In prayer tonight, I hold my stone and lean toward justice, and place my faith in goodness. Uncertain, but expectant still, that all will be well in the lives of those held by the silence, held by the trembling heart, held by a majestic love that will not let us go.
I suppose this is the essence of faith...the reason I run to the riverside one more time today because I want to see for myself. Too many posted pictures and reported eagle sightings by others; I want to see. I sit and wait...and wait...and minutes later am still waiting when I hear the flutter and looking up-- there it is, wide dark wings and white head directly above me gliding! I am frozen still watching this gift of raw beauty in awe and sight disbelief. But the bald eagle is on her return, and these shores are her nesting grounds.
Birds of prey have followed me the seasons of this year. From barred owl sightings in summer to red tail hawk with snake dangling from talons in the October breeze. I've seen those hawks on the side of the highways, and heard the jealous crows in the winter cold. Terrifying and powerful, wise and majestic, they come as signifiers of transformation. Now is the time for the bald eagle's return.
I write of these birds now on a day when my faith is shaken, when I've seen a little more of the darkness, and tasted a bit more of the fear of this world. In prayer tonight, I hold my stone and lean toward justice, and place my faith in goodness. Uncertain, but expectant still, that all will be well in the lives of those held by the silence, held by the trembling heart, held by a majestic love that will not let us go.
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