Out of the Ashes

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It was one of those lazy October days. The horses were peacefully grazing nearby as I lingered in the pasture with the gentle breezes that reminded me of my mom reassuring me after a skinned knee. The autumn sky was brilliant with a translucent yellow-leaved tree as its footstool; white clouds drifted overhead calling for recognition of ever changing shapes and figures.

One large feathery cloud spread itself wide above me in a gesture of freedom and total abandonment to its own movements. I knew there was a recognizable shape in there somewhere, something obvious that I could feel but wasn’t seeing just yet. And, there it was…the head of an eagle! It was then that the whole cloud made sense. I bent backwards, squinting my eyes from the brightness, and looked up into its form as it flew overhead. It was a reflection of my soul that day.

I remembered words from my past…”and they shall mount up with wings like the eagle, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” This was one of those treasured remembrances from the ashes of my religious upbringing. And my soul took joyful flight with the eagle.

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