Flight |
What a mountain
climber Jorge was!
He climbed to the top
of the birds'
secret hill and
in a minute he was
more bird than man.
His feathers
assembled posthaste
and under them he was
stuffed, just as he was,
just beginning his airy life,
off he flies,
flapping, shaking,
beating, swaying,
a showy feathered thing,
a shape, a destined float
dandled by the winds
and gone gone gone
above the trees,
the mountains,
the landscape of man,
the handicaps of earth.
Beyond the luminous envious angels
the vitality of his wings
carries him on.
Gone forever,
he flies to his tumultuous kin,
welcoming, welcoming,
ringing a set of bells for him
at the darkest distance of eternity.
Brave and proud,
he started and dared
and left us all with the air
we breathe and
the daily bread we eat.
Be satisfied with that.
copyright 2017
Jack
Harvey |