A friend of mine wrote this to me
Fly
The man stands upon a craggy crest,
Looking at the tiny world below,
Eyes closed,
His heart in-sync with the thoughts
All about his blithe and breezy mind.
The wind murmurs silent doubts,
The rocks beneath him speak of things long past,
The trees cry in fear,
And the sky above calls with desperation.
As he holds his breath in distrust,
He frees himself of the safety around him,
He then falls.
As the ground rises up,
The houses grow and grow,
The world holds its breath in silent promise,
And without heed, he is aloft.
Lifted off by pearly white wings,
Silken Feathers,
And renewed trusts in himself, and in his heart.
Soaring about the whirls and swirls of white wisps,
Flying about the cerulean sky,
Gliding amongst the silent wind.
With the wind through his raven hair,
Across his lengthy body,
And about his shimmering wings,
Fills him with joy,
A joy that has never, and will never, know heed.
When he lands upon a craggy rock,
Overlooking the deep, royal sea,
His shining wings are folded in,
For he is content with his deed.
Fly
The man stands upon a craggy crest,
Looking at the tiny world below,
Eyes closed,
His heart in-sync with the thoughts
All about his blithe and breezy mind.
The wind murmurs silent doubts,
The rocks beneath him speak of things long past,
The trees cry in fear,
And the sky above calls with desperation.
As he holds his breath in distrust,
He frees himself of the safety around him,
He then falls.
As the ground rises up,
The houses grow and grow,
The world holds its breath in silent promise,
And without heed, he is aloft.
Lifted off by pearly white wings,
Silken Feathers,
And renewed trusts in himself, and in his heart.
Soaring about the whirls and swirls of white wisps,
Flying about the cerulean sky,
Gliding amongst the silent wind.
With the wind through his raven hair,
Across his lengthy body,
And about his shimmering wings,
Fills him with joy,
A joy that has never, and will never, know heed.
When he lands upon a craggy rock,
Overlooking the deep, royal sea,
His shining wings are folded in,
For he is content with his deed.
