Wednesday, April 8, 2015

(part 300) The Eagle

(To my son, Bob)

How proud and angry
The eagle in his flight
Wings outstretched
High, high, higher than the peaks
Higher than the mundane world below
Higher than all the sparrows
He glistens in the sun

Yet I have seen him bound to earth
Full of sorrow
I have seen him with his wings folded
Struggling for breath
Struggling for meanings
Struggling for truth
Yes, I have seen the eagle cry
And his tears fell into my heart
Each one leaving a wound
That will not heal

Oh, eagle
Lift your wings
Fly in the sun again
Be not only proud, but wise
One can see much up there above the peaks
Close to the sun

Written by Troy Parker Farr

This particular piece was written by my mother, 2010, about me. It is her recollection of watching my struggle back to life from a coma after a drug overdose an attempted suicide in 1972. Her words, "struggling for breath" refer to that day in the intensive care unit of UCLA Hospital in Westwood, CA. I cannot change the circumstances of why she wrote this. I can only share what she wrote and why she wrote it. Fortunately she was able to see me get clean and sober in 1976, and stay that way for the rest of her life.