He holds onto the crag with razor claw
while the rest shudder in shock and awe.
He lives alone and is close to the sun
while a terror like him, there is none.
His wings glide through the azure skies
as above the fleeting clouds he flies.
The branches of the junipers are proof
that overhead the predator needs no roof.
The wrinkled waves of the sea crashes
while chilly wind under the wings gushes.
He watches from the mountain ridges
where no soul lurks, none there trudges.
The Creator must surely think with a sigh;
of the power and aura of an eagle's eye.
Prasenjit©2023
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