I rode on the back of an eagle.
by Mary Naylor
The wind was a screeching witch.
His feathers were my shelter, my refuge.
We hurtled through black vastness,
and I was a moment, a drop,
in the void.
'I need perhaps to explain, this poem was based on a very vivid dream I had. In the dream I could feel the wind rushing past me. It was one of those experiences that got me thinking of the immensity of time and eternity and to feel its vastness.'