My Brother

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My Brother - the Eagle

I run through the woods, a cool breeze moves past my face. The trees dance in my eyes as I move freely past their homes. I feel my heart pound in my chest, I sense the movement of blood through my veins. I feel the blood ebb to the ends of my earthy boundary and returning to its origin like a long lost friend. I run free using my resources to continue on a path yet undetermined. My root bound friends that give me shelter will never know the freedom of an out stretched stride or experience another view. I will never know the stability of being bound to another living part of the whole. They are anchored steadfast, strong. I will never know the certainty of being on a designated path. I won’t ever sense the strength of one predetermined bond, that once broken, means my fatality.

I hear the cries of my brother the eagle flying above me. He lives above the earth, his path is clear of obstacles. His wings give him privilege as he soars above the world. He sees things I can not see. He dances with the clouds. He floats like the fall leaves through the air, gentle, graceful with perfect precision his wings cut through the air and leaves no trace of his presence. The perfection of his eyesight allows him to see movement on the ground from a great distance. He can pick his target from the air and within a single fatal swoop pluck his prey from the ground leaving only the rustling leaves behind in his assault. He will not know the feeling of the cool earth on his body as he stretches out in the summer sun. He can not sense the feeling of rolling down a hill end over end with the earth and sky revolving in rapid repetition. He can feel the touch of the cool water in the lake, yet he can’t explore the sensation of swimming within its touch, being surrounded with its coddling caress. My brother will never sense the pounding of his feet as they strike the earth, the sense of security within its firm grip.

I feel the gentle stroke upon my body. A touch without substance. I search for a form within the touch. Affectionately, tenderly it embraces me without shape. A more noble lover has never been created, it gives without want for itself. It utters a long voiceless sound. I hear my brothers. They whisper, their soft tones carried in the silence. Their voices float away all too soon. The wind has nothing of its own, it only exists for others. To touch and not be touched, with barren lust it borrows from its brothers. Endlessly I feel its presence, it touches my senses. I desire to be part of its survival. Does it feel the beating of my heart, the shivering of my skin, the movement I create on the earth? I add to the song, I join with its eternal movement. The earth is its instrument. I am carried within its love, I am his brother.

The rain falls softly, it finds within the earth a path. The solitary droplet undaunting, joined with others a formidable army. Slowly the water moves down the hill, it travels past the anchored trees. It carries along on its journey the discarded particles of Mother Earth and its children. It cleanses all within its reach. The wind and rain dance with each other as they ascend from the unknown towards an end of their own choosing. I stand upon the bank of its embodiment and I drink from the cool strength.

Entwined with its accompanying entourage the single droplet gives home to the fish. Dependents of an unreconcilable force they live within its uncountable strength. The fish travel within this existence, only they have no knowledge of the wind -- only of its effects. Acting as a surrogate mother it protects young or old, those within its embrace as well as those on its banks with equal devotion she attends to all.

I find solace in my surroundings, my friends live here with me. I am one, my feet planted upon the earth. I feel the slight labor on my chest longing for stability. I am one, I am all. I am bound with earthly perimeters, I move within the boundary of my given gifts. I move through the trees, leaving only my foot prints where I have been, they fade away with the passing of time. My voice carries to my brothers and fades as the wind stops for a rest. I am nothing without my brothers. We are only now; let my moment pass with the peace and gratitude it deserves.