Spiritual Fiction & Poetry - Poetic Inspiration -
☞Dreams We Hold
Those Who Will Dream
Life is determined
Not by what would have been:
But what can be,
For those who will dream.
Let me now take my future
Into my own hands;
Chart a course on my ocean of dreams.
The world is an anvil;
I am solid as iron.
I will use the fire
To forge the future I choose.
The Freedom of the Eagle
Born in the nest; trained the art of flight;
Free to soar all day; free to soar all night.
Free to be alone, or fly beside a friend;
No need to fear or worry, just sail upon the wind.
Breathe the mountain air, descend to valleys low;
Free to have a choice wherever you want to go.
Subject to the laws of nature, yet free the laws of man;
Free to view the treetops, free from land to land.
O, what beauty in an eagle, just to see him fly!
My heart would be so happy if I could reach the sky.
To soar among the clouds, to see the river below;
To never have to worry, or never have a foe.
I know I have no wings, nor feathers to lift me high;
Yet by the grace of God, some day I know I'll fly.
And, on that happy morning, when earthly cares have passed;
I will be free at last, I will be free at last.
Vicky Hunt (April 26, 1983)
The Eagle's Flight
So many dreams!
So often I've held the Eagle in my hands.
I said, "Go, you're free!"
Before too many moments have passed,
I've found her perched on my shoulders again.
She won't leave me.
"But, you can't fly above my head anymore!" I cry.
"Your broken wings hinder your flight."
The Eagle holds my gaze as she says,
"You will give me strength to soar,
Above the clouds!
I will fly with you!"
Yet I hang my head in shame,
For the world to see the broken creature.
"Why do you hold onto those useless dreams?
What have they done for you?" they say.
Yet, I know that without my Eagle-
I would cease to exist.
Tempus fugit, or fleeing time ;
Written on the face of an old clock,
From a forgotten time.
Fleeing time may carry my dreams.
Tomorrow may hold my fondest wish;
Or my closest friend.
But, for today I can only hope;
And wait for the passing of time,
And the revelation of dreams.
Vicky Hunt (September 3, 1988)