Ears pointed to the source.
Beak grinning as a matter of course.
Eyes as distant as the stars,
but sharp as a hawk’s noble scars.
Feathers as smooth and golden as nothing before.
Claws as hard as an eagle’s core.
Wings of golden ready to soar,
ready to lift the legs of four.
Strong muscles in thighs and paws to grip,
Tail of lion with golden tip.

I fly with the wind as my friend,
a mentor that has plenty of hands to lend.
It shows me secrets only the wind can know,
everywhere it can reach, anywhere it can go.
I flow like a river and crash like the sea,
I rise like a fire where a tree ought to be.
With a screech of triumph I dive
and fly so high I feel alive.
And when it is over (could it be so soon?),
I curl like a cat and almost swoon,
for there’s the moon
saying, “Hello, you.”