Lord, how becoming are you in my eyes?
Becoming as the sunshine in the skies
and, like the sacred eagle when she flies
above the tides of men, their schemes, their lies
and, basking be, she must believe, Most Wise,
a world exists beyond our mortal ties,
a world beyond our own, the greatest prize
that baffles even skeptics, otherwise,
the face of earth is but a mere disguise
and eagles still find warmth in distant suns.