John Shea Biography

Dear lord here I sit with pen in hand
Hoping you will understand
Lillian will be dancing with the stars
With mother nature
...

I spied a bald eagle using the wind
To hunt for his prey.
He wandered afar as to leave my eyesight
Then soared with the wind
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With numbing cold, biting at my brittle bones
I feel many years giving me a wake up shake
Gripping my coat through the more gripping cold
I feel the world has grown old.
...

I found him in mud colored red by the blood
Breathing but weak not able to speak
Surrounded by eerie lights of battle out of sight
He shook like a leaf I felt his grief
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I cradle the travelers in their windy Birth,
My name is Mother....Mother Earth.

I Give them a bed in nature to lie,
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