The nested sticks are nestled in the tree-
Top nest that grows in circle-width and height
Until the laws of physics' cold decree
Of gravity launch both the eagles' flight.
The ground is littered with the broken twigs--
The rats are licking yolks from shattered eggs,
And they are chased away by wild pigs
Who dine, ignoring what each eagle begs.
The golden eagles bring the branches, build
Upon the nest they add to every year--
And we have joined the golden eagle guild
Where constant growth seems all that's ever dear.
The wind will dissipate each human oath,
For nature always limits growth.