Amongst the overflow of chatter between the unruly pigeons,
The call of an Eagle is so distinct.
In a mundane stroll devoid of much to think,
It heralds, finally, some excitement to the mind.
It spreads its majestic wings
Of span greater than most winged beasts,
It has made itself ruler of these skies
By circling around its land and pride.
More often than not,
I can hear its call,
Yet not see its figure,
For it is above the clouds.
It screeches across its clear skies,
And glides over building and tree alike,
It seems to be hunting,
Chasing its luck like throwing dice,
Yet doesn't seem to find prey tonight.
And today, it might go to its nest
Without much in beak, but a few scraps.
After all, it is truly a miracle
That food can still be considered available.
Its life in this urban landscape,
Is a struggle through which it must persist,
Yet nature will not go astray,
And these eagles will find their way.
– Maya Desdemona
Luminousis 