My soul now buoyant on a springtime breeze
Ascends from restful greens to stirring blue
And reaches heights above the hills with ease
Where I can sing as droll cloud faces do.
Disdainful of horizons built today,
I strain to see my far tomorrow’s brow,
But future’s time is always hid away
And inescapably my time is now.
Yet now is life, astride the boist'rous sky,
Not with the books weighed down by human wit
Or mess of papers void of wisdom’s eye
Or screens of let’s pretend so dimly lit.
Up here I travel where my soul would run
And see with penetration like the sun.
May 28, 2013
(rev., 2017)
