Walter Weinschenk
In the Air
I’ve abandoned the ground,
I am lighter than air.
The sky is my ocean;
I float within it;
I glide like a fish
Through the atmosphere;
I sleep as I drift;
It’s placid and peaceful
And when I get tired
I draw up the evening
Like a coverlet.
A cloud once told me
How easy it is:
“Just breathe,” he said
As I floated by
And now I move
Quite effortlessly,
As high or low
As I care to be.
You can’t see the world
If you live within it:
If you want to know it
You should hover above it:
You’d be surprised
By the things you see:
The world is a painting,
A grand mosaic;
The trees are circles.
Parasol green
And the fields and farms
Are perfectly square;
Rivers and streams
Are lines through the land
Like calligraphy
Across a page;
The seas are rippled
Azure sheets,
Dotted with boats
Between the waves.
There is no sound
But for the rhythm
Of your breathing
And the quiet flutter
Of butterflies;
They float in the breeze
And fan themselves with
Powdered wings;
Seagulls graze
In the thick of the fog
And gorge themselves
With drizzle and salt.
To float, no doubt,
Is the best way to go;
I take my time;
I don’t plan a route;
I wave each night
To the sorry moon
As I drift by
(Envious, I suppose, he is)
And now I know
That the sun can sing:
A different song
Each afternoon.
I dance in the air;
I wander in the wind;
I row with my hands and steer with my feet;
I have discovered a new way to live;
I school myself in the art of floatation.