POETRY
LESSON
The fragile
journal had a title and an austere story. It starkly sketched the conditions of
a prisoner in war; deprivation, fatigue, the unknown about how long the
prisoner’s life could be and if that life would last longer than the war itself.
It was a walk to somewhere-else in a log of days, steps, and crumbs.
A
baseball styled hat perched on the head of a quiet, prayerful man – had ‘Stalag
17-B‘ embroidered within it. “I bet there is a story about that hat” was met
with a nod. The following day at morning Mass a WWII
Prisoner of War Journal passed into the hands of a curious poet.
The
face beneath the cap was full of lines – and lines, the mortar of poetry,
captivated the poet. The poet read the gentleman’s journal but found no poetry
inside. Even though the title on the
journal “Eagles Can Walk” was profound, there was no poetry inside the
journal’s own words.
Hungry
for understanding of the title and the march to what was expected to be to
death; the journal is read over and over. A somberness lingered but little
else until the poet decided to learn more about eagles.
Long
before being a prisoner, the soldier had dreamed of being a pilot soaring with
eagles. The walking prisoner was not infantry – he was Army Air Corp. He was an Eagle, but not soaring has he had
dreamed.
Eagles,
solitary birds, are elegant fliers that soar far above the earth. They can walk but their powerful wings make
walking clumsy and awkward. Much like a
hungry, tired soldier an eagle must want to live to walk. An eagle walks only courageously making it’s
weakness - it’s strength.
From
stretching, all that the poet learned became a poem that crossed decades from
the dream of flying to the dream of living to the unintended consequences of change.
Stretch
your imagination for a moment and you can --- soar on the wind, build a nest,
tumble & not fall, reach summits, protect your offspring -- walk to freedom
and become a prayerful older man with a simple story that captivates a poet and
stirs the imagination of a poet’s son.
Stretch
your imagination for a moment, and you can!
eagles can walk
dedicated to I. J. Mills & the courageous
survivors of Stalag 17B
that began a walk to what became freedom (4/8/45)
Stretch your imagination for a moment
and you can soar on the wind
with the eagle bald and brave;
a young man at the edge of war
decides to serve ,
Army
Air Corps Eagle 1943
Stretch your imagination for a moment
and you can build a nest that will last forever
in lofty places it will be your castle
torn inside out by the needs of all who
inhabit, molding
traditions
American family 1953
Stretch your imagination for a moment
and you can court the world in magnificent
flight, talons clasping in earthbound tumbling
capturing the imagination,
grow up to be
president, reaching the pinnacle
Dallas profile 1963
Stretch your imagination for a moment
and you can see what the world cannot see
chooses not to see,
talons firmly into the rock
facing the sun, the summit reached
a generation in a quest beyond
Roe vs. Wade 1973
Stretch your imagination for a moment
and you can capitalize on the white tail
waving with passive strength, across nations
protective, baring up the babes
on wings until they are strong
Soviet Union 1983
Stretch your imagination for a moment
and you can imagine your weakness
as your greatest asset, to be called upon
often in a world that needs to hear stories
of courage, a W.W.II POW remembers
eagles
can walk 1993
Stretch your imagination for a moment
and you can rendezvous with destiny
aircraft, weapons, and technology deploy
Into the Cradle of Mankind; we remember
It is the soldiers, liberating
Screaming Eagles 2003
Stretch your imagination for a moment
that we might adapt to unknown offerings of
ceaseless change, and threats undetected
capturing
the wind, unintended
consequences,
colliding with mortality
eagle conservation
2013
EAGLES BORN TO WALK CAN
STILL FLY
The only word capable of
capturing his essence is wonder. He was born different in a world that has too
many expectations for imperfection. Like an eagle born with broken wings, he
was at a disadvantage. He was born a god child. God stripped him of sight,
sound, and communication, yet gave him so much more. Soon after my parents told
me I would be sharing my room I met him for the first time. I was only six. I
had been praying to be a big brother, but at 6 feet tall my new brother towered
above me. He came to the family to grow and learn, they said. Little did I know that in the end I would be
the student, my simple brother Nathan, the teacher.
Growing up I loved having Nathan around because when
I was with him I was the big brother. This was a great feeling for a little
brother. At night we slept with the lights on because Nathan didn’t like the
dark. In the dark he was truly blind. I think that scared him. As long as I
knew him, Nathan never said a word, just used sign language for the basics and
improvised with the rest.
His two inch too thick glasses
enabled him to make out colors and shapes, grasping the world he could not clearly
see. He would hold something as ordinary as a yellow crayon close to his eyes,
color with it for hours (until the crayon was gone) and then start again. Then
paper filled with color was given to me as if it was as priceless as pure gold.
Nathan spent most of his free time with his face
pressed against our front door window, watching the cars fly by on the highway
outside our home. Colors and speed appeared to amaze him. Neighbors driving by
became accustomed to him sitting and watching, and waved to him. I wonder if he
saw them wave or if he understood this gesture. How desperately did he want to
understand everything he saw?
There is one thing about
Nathan I will never forget: his Amadeus
laugh, a joyous cry of laughter could make me happy in the worst of times. There
is only one person that I have grown to love more than myself. I am proud that
person is Nathan. He taught me that a weakness can become a strength. God took
away almost everything from Nathan, but he gave him the gift of love. Lucky for
me, God gave me the gift of Nathan. I suspect Nathan dreamt of flying. Gifted
by love, my brother could soar higher than the rest. And, I will always leave
my light on for him so he won’t have to fly in the dark. Nathan showed me
eagles, born to walk, can still fly. I believe my brother will fly forever.
