There was rain in the forecast for Duluth,
the day after our glorious trek along the North Shore,
spying Lake Superior from a hill near Gooseberry Falls,
seabirds floating over the inland sea.

We decided to find an indoor attraction,
longing for rain, we still did not want to get wet,
since so much time had passed,
and we feared being soaked so far from home.

The aquarium was just this side of the Aerial Bridge,
where barges from around the world,
floated unrestricted into their temporary home.

The fish and aquatic life in the tanks mirrored those,
swimming freely in the depths of the Greatest Lake,
Lake Trout, Walleye, and Sturgeon, some that lived over 100 years.

We had finished the first floor and were moving to the second,
when something curious caught our eye.
There, in the gift shop,
was a solitary, plush Eagle.

My wife said, “Oh cute. Can we get it?”
But I thought, Eagles are majestic birds of prey,
Not to be sold as toys.
Eagles must fly!

We proceeded to the second floor
until, at the last corner,
a lone Eagle with a heavy beak and piercing eyes.

It perched on a miserable little limb,
staring wantonly through a screen at the wooded hills outside.
It never turned toward us but only looked dejectedly at its former home,
where we had roamed just the day before.

Eagles are meant to fly, to soar up toward the sun!
To carry us to freedom and spread the word.
What would St. John or Moses say
to see nature’s herald trapped behind such a paltry barrier?

You can’t put God in a box, nor an Eagle behind a screen.
Eagles are meant to fly!