Floating downstream ...
... or upstream?
Light flashing through gapes in the over-hanging tree branches
... or from Pulsars whirling in some distant galaxy?
Nature displaying the abundance of its’ pallet
... or mind’s eye imagining colors never seen?
Textures untouched yet felt
Sounds unheard yet sensed
With features morphing
Strangers... for the moment
Known and loved
Friend and enemy
Faces from the past
... or from the future?
Things move past me
Floating downstream or upstream?
In slow motion
My feet are stones
I claw at objects trying to propel myself through molasses atmosphere
I work so hard to fly
Someone sees me up here above the trees and points
I flap harder intuitively aware that I must not be caught doing the impossible
Brushing rustling leaves
Gliding barely above trees
... Just High enough to feel safe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.