Flight Home, A Clear Day Poem by Marcia Schechinger

Clefts of clouds settle aimlessly
below my carriage
like dampened cotton balls
pasted to transparent glass

Between the skewed white
triplets of trees taste
the lime fur floor
becoming fern shaped parasols

My metal buggy bows and waves
as the wind sends
a glow opening the skies
to the sun

It is nice to meet the world
at this angle
blue above,
blubbles of white in the middle
green at base

Rooted in one place too long
I forgot how the angels sing
when blue and white and green mesh
like a three stringed Balalaika

There's a comfortable
blending of the past,
the present and the future
bouncing from cloud to cloud

And here the future chimes the loudest
for I have seen particles of
it in my grandchildrens's eyes
and they mirror the infinite possibilities
of what comes from trust and love

Here I realize life is an experience
for graveled paths are clearer
from far away
The maze is towered
so as to see the beginning and an end
with so much life in the middle