Advent Day Sixteen: Eagle

On Monday as I was driving along the Massachusetts turnpike I luckily spotted a bald eagle perched in a tree. A friend recently recounted an experience in the same part of that road where a bald eagle was flying nearly parallel to her as she drove along. These moments where we spot another species in “the wild” stay with us.

While this was my first bald eagle sighting, it wasn’t my first eagle encounter. Ten years ago I spent a month in Tasmania on the most magical piece of earth cared for by my friend Peter Adams. On one of the hillsides near an ancient she-oak tree, an eagle nearly dive-bombed me. While this was a completely different kind of experience compared to Monday’s observation, I take away similar feelings and gratitude for being present and attentive to my surroundings.

Then yesterday, I was introduced to this poem by Joy Harjo, entitled Eagle.

To pray you open your whole self

To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon

To one whole voice that is you.

And know there is more

That you can’t see, can’t hear;

Can’t know except in moments

Steadily growing, and in languages

That aren’t always sound but other

Circles of motion.

Like eagle that Sunday morning

Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky

In wind, swept our hearts clean

With sacred wings.

We see you, see ourselves and know

That we must take the utmost care

And kindness in all things.

Breathe in, knowing we are made of

All this, and breathe, knowing

We are truly blessed because we

Were born, and die soon within a

True circle of motion,

Like eagle rounding out the morning

Inside us.

We pray that it will be done

In beauty.

In beauty.

And while this college is not filled with eagles, let’s pretend it is.