I return, dear reader, to the image of the eagle, and God’s message of hope and renewal to embolden me lest I get stuck.

The Eagle

He clasps the crag with
crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely
lands,
Ring’d with the azure world,
he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath
him crawls;
He watches from his
mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he
falls.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
1851