To be up in the sky was a miracle
For the stars that would fade
And the feathers that greyed
'Till the engines shut down for the season.
Me, I cried my way home without reason,
And compared a plane downed
With the screaming of sound
That crossed hills rolling into humanity.
I made calls out to home without sanity,
Losing heart that did seek
Out the birds and their beaks
…The rain drenched their feathers in downpour.
So I stayed and knew not what I stood for,
With the sun traveling west,
And a future no less
As the people with windows then shuttered them.
It was sudden, the swoop of the pigeon friends
Come to pilfer the ground,
A more natural sound,
To alight on the arrogant soil.
And I saw their good spirits unspoiled.
By returning to earth,
Maybe something of worth
Would take whispers from faint to empirical.