Glide

 

Could I but glide
through the clouds
like a bird in flight

I would soar skyward
in sweeping circles
lifted on mighty thermals

I would not be earthbound
not a prisoner of these feet
not captive of gravity

each day
would be thrilling
would be freedom

living in
and for
the moment

soaring
and swooping
and giving thanks
for feathers
and hollow bones

*
rob kistner © 2022

More poetry at: Sunday Muse