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.