I want to ride the wind again,
air solid mass beneath me
pushing up to help me fly.
eyes streaming tears
all falling up, body yearning
for the vibrant green
that could be holding death
if I should make a touchdown;
I want to ride the wind again
arms slicing air, hot knives
dividing butter for the pancake
I could be if wings don't grow
in time to sweep me up and out
and over the horizon, as feathers
cartwheel earthward, gleaming
in the sun that stole the wax
from Icarus, too jealous to let
humans share the sky before
they turn to dust and climb
the ladder of the clouds
heading for their second lives
of particles suspended
in the rain, drops stinging
on the soft spots on my shoulders
where the wings should be,
soon now they'll grow to stop
this headfirst tumble to eternity
that I have risked because
I want to ride the wind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is beautiful! i love the words you use, every line is interesting and a pleasure to read. you have amazing talent, midnight! jane s