God help us

Great eagle, knower of the skies,
Of windy portents, eclipses and the dust-blown mantracks
Crossing and recrossing in quicksands and stone.
Under his scrutiny the revealed bones
And girth of the past; the string-led figures; the gods in the
machine.
The great spirit flies, sifting the air, translating earth shapes against
the moving screen.
Tame prounouncers, parrots, gulls and shamans utter cries,
Communicate their shrill distress; declare him less than the familiar
apes.
But the shadow of the spirit enfolds them all.
And here and there with shielded eyes
People have seen the steady wings and far light striking them,
And here and there recall how long ago the fire was brought,
The vultures and the rock, and will remember him.

This poem by Eugene Davidson pays tribute to revisionist historian and author, Charles Austin Beard. What is to be done? Whether I know the author's intended meaning of 'great spirit' is irrelevant. Just put capital letters onto this phrase and truth flies free. God help us now and forever.