Saturday, July 10, 2010


Flying high above the wind, that familiar flight again takes place
Feathers white and stunning as her song
Pierce the air with soft, peculiar grace

Her destination is not clear
But felt it is, so very near

She stops just for a moment, no more alone
Solemn, quiet, it is not her home

Ordinary clouds decorate those skies
She cringes at the thought of ordinary guise

Home is not home, this time is not hers
She leaves for that familiar flight
High above to choose a new escape
Better to fly when the unknown is clear in sight

Faster and higher, this time it is real
So close, still far, that second sight of appeal

Merely existing at rest
Her air is powerful in the skies
It is what she dreams of beneath shut eyes
Set apart, detached, that is where she thrives

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