I am designed to scale great heights
I amd designed to ride on all storms
I am designed to take on the entire sky with my massive wingspan
Yes, I’ll look down at the world from great blue vault
– skim the cities, towns and villages and empires big and small
It’s all to heal the wound with gusts wind,
And balm my sore being with the balm of chill
Patiently hearing the footfalls of the Time on steps upon steps,
Until there isn’t any more floors to climb and it is face to face with me.
Just why do little flowers happen?
Just why do little flowers get close to an albatross?
Just why do little flowers permeate the being of such a large bird?
When time, oh Time is sure to take it away from under the wing . . .