When on the wind I freely skate
And graze the very silk clouds of creation
Wave, turbulent wave
Such is the remit of full life’s desire
And in tumultuous harmony do I aspire
To scratch and scream
To scour the earth in rage
To seek what wisp folk
Only glean in fancied dream
I will not shun the goal
Nor heed defeat; but catapult
Upon the currents of those
Who breathe deceipt
Into the bounteous spirals
Of oh such rare delight
As course through magic sky veins
Of the Earth
In flight.
By JJ Middleway
