Rise.

An eagle splits the sky wide open

Claiming the aureate heavens as his

Forging Horus through his herculean eye

Claiming the sun, as Icarus.

I watch as its wings unfurl

Like quiet thunder drops.

I watch as he circles the sky,

Grazing the glazen chimney tops.

Yet I stay in this cage

The air thick with chalk and dust

Spines of books breaking 

hinges creaking 

The minds begin to rust.

The shadow of the eagle

Stretches larger that it could be

Seeking, piercing, conquering,

Across a world that can breathe.

My gaze turns to my hands in front of me

Chained up in the gloom,

And as I stare 

at the pages of the books

I wonder if I, too,

Can lift off from these pages,

Rise above the clouds

With nothing but the wind on my back.

I wonder if I, too, 

Can rise.