The ravens fly in swarms
the eagle flies alone
—Luchino Visconti

So close to heaven
flies the eagle
as the poet
who patiently waits
the arrival of a verse
till the pen

finally scratches a few a few lines

still doubting
the sense
the idleness
of naming.

Germain Droogenbroodt

From: “In the Stream of Time, Meditations in the Himalayas”

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