The Eagles Shadow

Half asleep she picked up her bag of beads and started forming the outline for her latest project, her eyes sore and fingers so tired that they could hardly hold the tiny beads but this would be a special project one that would keep him in her spell forever.

Faster she beaded, fingers nimbly flying her mind in another world thinking always thinking not looking at what she was doing her eyes half shut, the darkness of sleep closed in yet her fingers still flew across her work. In her dream she saw lightning flash heard the voices of many people murmuring about her strengths, she saw an eagle flying across the moonlight sky the faces of her people upturned to watch ”She’s here” they shouted “the maiden has returned to us with her help her strength we can do anything”
A shadowy figure passed in front of the crowd of people, the girl her fingers still beading moaned in her sleep “No” she moaned “not him again”He had appeared in her dreams before always sucking the strength from her before the dream played out but this time it would be different.

The eagle swooped down and landed the people crowded around it “she is ours, we are she” they chanted “she is ours we are she, she is our protector, we are hers, the shadow of the eagle will not take her this time”

He started to close in on the eagle, her bead work almost finished now and her hands slowing as he approached “I will have her strength” he shouted

It was not to be for the girl awoke suddenly a small child tugging at her sleeve “Mum, wake up, the hamburger is burning” they yelled in her ear.”

I was awake and you don’t have to yell” the girl said back as she looked down at her now finished project of the eagle with the dark shadowy almost invisible figure so hidden in the shadow of the eagle that you could hardly see it in it’s talons. ”

Maybe at one time you had hold of me but now buddy I have you” she triumphantly uttered as she placed the finished pattern of beads back down on the chair she had been napping on and walked off too finish cooking dinner

Wary and Anger

It doesn’t happen

I am not impulsive
The thought must be thought of a lot
Thrown around and moved
And sorted
Shaken up
My thoughts clear
The how’s and why’s gone over
Sometimes thinking so much
That
It just never happens at all


Anger

It comes in waves
Dark and red
The anger flowing out
Hitting the tidal wall of my mind
The lapping at the shore is the only thing you see
The anger is hidden, tucked away
For I am frightened of my own anger
The part of me you do not see
As it scares me to think of what I might do or say
You will not hear the raised voice
You will not see anything smashed
You just will not see me at all