Anthony W. Pahl
Cascades of silken black hair crown her spirit and being
Ebony eyes, alive in the joy of the reality and knowledge of life,
sparkle in the hearts of all who behold her.
The lustrous pearls that are her teeth are revealed by a smile;
a smile so alive, the noonday sun becomes as a mere candle;
and at her countenance, hearts beat strongly as with the rhythm of the surf
eternally pounding the rocks of Cape Horn in winter.
Her steed is one with her in their dance of life…
An embrace of love secures her against the hurricane of movement;
against a wind that is at once the breath of life, and the call of death;
a wind mightily roaring through the canyons, enriching the lifeblood of her land
The mustang brumby accepts her while remaining true unto his freedom,
for she seeks nothing from him, and shares all.
No other will ever experience his acceptance at the weight of their lesser humanity.
Her laugh echoes throughout the canyons of her land and in her peoples’ hearts
and unites with the ethereal shouts and cries of the great Eagle soaring aloft;
a ghostly and real shadow on clouds illuminated by morning light.
And following the shadow, she encircles the world…
to return and clasp the small hand of the child called Liberty.
And all who see her, laugh with her and know her
for she is a friend of nations, and the cornerstone of peace
This is Small Eagle, daughter of Gray Eagle, the Shadow Warrior
This is Rebecca, daughter of Lady DeeAnne who is the glow of each breaking day
This is my friend, Becky, whom I love
This is the link to all ages…
… but she is not special, for she is who she is,
and can never be more – nor less – without becoming
as a wisp of smoke in a tornado
Indeed, it is we who are special, and blest, for we fall within her purview.
©Copyright April 30, 2002 by Anthony W. Pahl
Author’s Note: Dedicated to, and written for Rebecca SaraAnne Gray Eagle (nee Small Eagle), my friend and the daughter of my Spirit Brother, Gray Eagle