Flight of the Condor

Somewhere from up a misty mountain high,
she comes swooping down into a cloudy California sky.
Spreads her hulking wings with royal pride,
her eyes dagger sharp as her wits...she climbs the haze for a fancy glide;

Crosses the windy coast for a dry land of the wild,
to feast on wasted beasts whose souls earlier departed.
They say she is master of the spirits...
Goddess to some forgotten folks in a land sacred and deserted;

Harnessing the howling winds from the north,
she hovers back heavens high for all its worth.
To search this time for that elusive peace and reasons...
why the loner in her keeps yearning for some healing beacons;

So dispirited though in her pursuit for inner serenity,
she soars in sadness to a place far away from humanity.
Then takes her lonely flight into solitude...
to brave another day with a condor`s fortitude.