Wind captures wings,

Lifts up to see the things,

That most people only see,

In photographs and on tv,

Metal birds up in the sky,

When dreaming high…

Means more than just sleeping on planes…

Counting clouds beyond the windowpane.

Wind captures wings,

Fly the nest to see the things,

Above cerulean reflections of the lake,

One life real,

The other, not quite fake,

When riding waves…

Means more than just crossing the ocean…

Sending electromagnetic notes to share emotion.

Original poem by © Darius the Mate

What is life without community? I would love to connect with other nicecissists out there. Seeing as you’ve got this far, that’s probably you! Reach out, drop me a message and let me know what you think in the comments, and of course, give me a follow for more – nice!

3 thoughts on “Feathered

  1. Pingback: Dreaming high

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