Aloft

It is indeed nothing less than

sailing through a dream

Being sound asleep but with eyes wide open

While soaring above the clouds

and an everlasting gleam

Rising towards the light of a morning’s promise

And the morning sky then pouring down on you.

I see no patterns of repetition

So different from our own patterns of thought

Of life itself, when

Living inside the same story and now

Urging you to view the world differently.

You are maybe then just a contemplator

Or perhaps also an admirer of

the sights and sounds of flight

Falling deeper in love and yearning to fly

Since for you life below those wings has been long forgotten

For this fleeting spell of being aloft