Where Eagles Fly
by Helen E. Payne Spencer, Cherokee
The coolness of the mountains
and the deepness of the sea
The blueness of the sky,
The Eagles fly - They do not flee.
The long amber grasses
floating in the breeze,
The smell of sweet flowers
are just thoughts inside of me.
Where men would never venture,
That's where the Eagles fly
On top of purple mountains
You can hear their shrieking cry.
In the mountains are their nests
Hidden from the prey
They won't be fools or be victims
Or fall along the way.
They fight for life,
these large strong birds,
They won't let it pass them by.
To fly where Eagles fly.
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The Eagle
by Greg Gough (c) 1996
I dreamed of the Eagle, soaring high above.
Majestic, graceful; free from it's Earthly tether.
It's presence... shadowing and altering reality.
All who see it, focus upon it.
At times it becomes elusive as it dances in
and out of the sun.
Watch closely, do not turn away and miss
your chance to share in it's spirit.
The spirit of the Eagle can be found
in each young Scout's eyes.
It's presence can be felt by those close to
achieving Scouting's highest honor.
And it's essence is preserved and cherished by
those known as Eagle Scouts!
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