Lighter than air
by Ray Veen
Very soon I will let go, and sail away
Very soon I will let go, and sail away
like a wooden ship on ocean swells.
My hands are small flesh, the bark is rough.
My hands are small flesh, the bark is rough.
It stitches my fingers to the limb.
A slow breeze tussles my hair, flutters my
eyelashes, the cool soaks my skin.
It makes my shoelaces quiver
It makes my shoelaces quiver
in the empty space, and we all sway.
Above me, below me, on every side,
Above me, below me, on every side,
the leaves are rustling and I listen.
Everything sways and I hang and feel and listen.
To the low rush, the whisper that swells,
To the low rush, the whisper that swells,
like the slow-motion crash of the surf.
Somewhere, down beyond my feet,
there are green ferns vibrant.
Beneath that, white sticks dry and brown leaves dead.
Far below, but it doesn’t matter.
Beneath that, white sticks dry and brown leaves dead.
Far below, but it doesn’t matter.
When I let go I will come nowhere near them.
I will throw myself towards the moon –
I will swim through soupy skies.
Very soon now.
Gravity will no longer be my master.