Sonnet Xii: No Bird Goes Hungry

It was the eagles head, below the moon, That watched over the hatchlings wrapped inside, Surrounded by whiteness in nature’s womb, A faith in beginnings and God abides, There precarious unborn eagles lie, Awaiting the day when shells are broken, When tiny brown eyes will glimse the blue sky, Dreaming of flight and perils unspoken, Being born on the precipice of fear, Where screeching for food will be their first sound, While wondering why no mother is near, It’s their Father who'll feed them, and surround The two tiny creatures with love and life, For no bird goes hungry within Gods sight.