Flying, soaring, wings up high
Traversing on wind currents, the eagle does glide
Piercing vision, the eagle sees all
Gracefully and effortlessly does he soar.

The cry of the eagle, rings at my heart,
With longing, and remorse it almost tears me apart.
Hypnotic eyes, to my spirit he does beckon,
He knows me better than what I did reckon.

Spirit of the eagle, how powerful it is,
Enduring and passionate, like a lovers' kiss.
Grace me with your presence, master of the skies,
Entrance me with your gaze, dispel from my world all the lies.

Eagle of mine, my predatory spirit you've managed to calm,
With love, respect, compassion, please hold my outstretched palm.
May the caress of your silken feathers soothe the stubborn canid soul,
With understanding you've settled my heart, with you in my life I feel whole.



Decades...a century or two or three have since passed,
Now you are gone, never to walk amongst the living again.
The loss pains my heart, lost for words I feel empty.
Nothing I write can ever do your memory justice.
Your spirit remains forever in all the lives you have touched.
Loved you are by many, never to be forgotten.



Mordeanna Ravenwulfe

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Phaestian, in the year 682 AF.