Friday, September 19, 2008

A Little Poetry or Prose

High up in the air, like a strung out kid, I am weightless. The horizon is a new challenge, but I'll never win. Always just out of reach and I keep playin’. Up above my problems. Up above my fears. Up above the world. I am a bird with no eyes. I can go anywhere, but I can’t see the way. The sun warms my back while the Earth cools my belly. I have a hunger that knows no satisfaction. My house if filled with priceless art that I don not own and cannot touch. Admission is granted with a smile and happy thoughts. Coming down. Coming down. The ground hits me like solid liquid. I am in the midst of it all. Working in it. Living with it. Eating it. You'll Bee one and overcome.

1 comment:

Allison Claire said...

It must be a slow day at work...again. :)