Flying

i'm like a bird, i wanna fly away

Flying

 

my pulse mimics the flapping of wings

the whoosh

the wind

of summer days

is under my weak limbs

i rise

heaven is below me

the human brain residing

enfolded and wet

is vaporized

 

i am finally, finally free

Reviews

[Antonio Valentino]

What a lovely and spiritual vibe this piece gives off. The brain/mortal thoughts are vaporized, but you, your spirit flies on.

Thanks for the lift Sara, the view was wonderful.
Antonio

[James Paulin]

I love the sensual quality of this poem. I feel the elation of freedom and the freshness of warm moisture in the air. Well done.

[Tate Morgan]

ah to be free

[Manda]

awww i love it! this was beautiful! keep it up!

[just rose.]

i almost get into this poem better on the second line, i think your title lets you know where we are, and my desire is one to immerse myself in the tactile here. i wonder if the first line might work better at the bottom? i know what you're doing here, you're taking off in that first line, but for some reason when i hear the whoosh i start to fly. this is one of those very fine poems that you do when you coalesce the feeling into a brief but stunning action contained within an image of escape - like a great big wash of watercolor painted by a soft hand with a thick brush. well done as always.

[Coyote Poetry]

To be able to fly. Would be a very good skill. I like the feel and desire of this poem. Freedom is hard to get to and very difficult to hold on to. A excellent poem.
Coyote