As I swim, an eagle flies above me,
each of us afloat with the slightest winged motion,
embraced only by water, or wind.

All summer she feeds her squawking young
in the pine above our porch, while I listen,
even in my dreams, and care for my ailing family.

Each day I feel more lost, yet more in love with life,
among the growing crowds of the dead and dying.
Each night I feel afraid, yet more true to myself.

Drifting with the eagle feels greater than love—
part of the still undiscovered seasons.