To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you
And know there is more
That you can’t see, can’t hear
Can’t know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren’t always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe, knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.

    Joy Harjo

Eagles circling over patches of open water. Cold, cobalt blue sky, brilliant piercing sun bouncing its rays off the snow, the ice. This is the sight we glimpsed this Sunday afternoon as we drove along the river toward Wabasha. Our leisurely trip had no other goals than to have a change of scenery in these January ‘sameness’ of days and the chance to see the eagles. And see them we did…young ones still brown with newness, no white yet emerged on their majestic heads, large ones soaring over the water, dipping with ease and precision to catch their lunch, those at a distance and those so close you could see their eyes. What a blessing!

There was a time in my life, a time of great fear and uncertainty, when I was visited by eagles. Driving in my car one dark Sunday morning in February, an eagle flew over so close I swear we were eye to eye. At another time, the eagles circled over the river near our home as I lay in a hospital room uncertain of what the future held for me. In a doctor’s office I looked up to see the single piece of artwork….eagle feathers painted by a Native artist. Eagles became angels for me, hovering near, praying with me,over me. I did not understand what was happening, this strange human-bird relationship, but I knew it was a gift, something not to be taken for granted.

And so this Sunday we pulled over here and there to get out of the car into the frigid air and watch these mighty birds soar, to lift the binoculars to our eyes for a closer look at their beauty, their power, their flight. And we were not alone. At each stop, we were joined by others who lifted their heads toward the heavens and followed the winging of brown and white as it touched the Earth. Silently, humans who had never known one another, were united in what? Admiration? Awe? Prayer? Certainly beauty and blessing.

"But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee, and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee: Or speak to the earth and it shall teach thee: and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee." Job 12:7-8 KJV