Watershed Years

An Eagle Soars
When I was young, a boy, in elementary and high school,
I had broad wings; I flew like a hawk;
High and graceful, gliding, riding all the thermals.
I had domain over my territory.
Then, came college, I was lost;
A round peg in a square hole.
Somehow, my wings were clipped;
I mostly wandered, like Siddhartha, aimlessly
For sixty months; I did not fly; I mostly crawled.
Then, I met the love of my life, who told me I could fly;
That she had watched me fly, and it was a beautiful sight.
Ok, I thought, and I told her I was a sparrow;
She told me "no, you are an eagle".
I told her, "Ok, let's say I'm a robin";
"No", she said, "you are an eagle."
"Ok, I said, I am a dove;"
Again, she told me I flew like an eagle.
I agreed, and said I was a hawk;
She told me, "no, you are not a hawk; you are an eagle".
Ok, I told her I was an eagle; and, I told her I could fly again;
She told me "eagles don't fly, they soar;
Now, soar".