Flight

Dreaming,

I close my eyes

and float clear sighted,

attaching the threads

of inchoate dream

to passing clouds

fat with wet promise

of future storm.

I soar,

And lie expectant,

buffeted by the winds

of chance and fancy,

passing thoughts reigning,

separated by--yet tied to logic's grasp,

but loosely held,

as visions form

and flee laughingly

from what might be real,

or might be dream,

I open my mind

and gather beauty

in drops of sunlit
Joy.



by: ME