Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Skyscraping (Dreams in Flight III)
It is cold up here, in the heights
increasing as I rise and move out
over the countryside, away from
the city. Farmland quilting the
country, forests padding the ground,
flying, flying, flying ever west
toward Osiris and Anubis and Thoth
flying toward the sun, to catch it
and keep it in pocket before it dies...
I awake, but the feeling of flight
leaves me only when the light fades
to dusk again. I try to summon this
dream again, but another one comes
instead; kisses, caressing flesh, eyes
and pale skin and warmth...
But to fly is denied tonight. Grounded,
I'll make due with pleasure of flesh
I'll make due with earthly dreams
but I'll awake wishing only to
see the buildings of man recede
until they are dust on dust on dirt
and bedrock and dreams, far bellow.
The works of men are a pedastel
for me to leap from, and to dream.