Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Frail this Flight

We search for other words for love
and speak in code to deny devotion
For this is mystic speech, too sacred

It is faith in flying
a rush of jet fuel and metal wings
we lift off and a small miracle takes place

But no one wonders at the miracle
or applauds the pilot's magic
as we race through stars full steam

We are hurling through darkness, headed
home and homeless, all at once
We are hovering in a dream

Choosing not to question the magic
Pasting wax and feathers to frame
Relishing the heart's departure from the sane

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