They stumble past bearing bags and children,
and bumping into seats with clumsy limbs
through warm and stuffy air they shuffle and swim
until illogic works to its conclusion
and all are seated, human cattle penned.
The ship then crawls from pavement onto pavement
while the vents emit an antisceptic scent.
We turn into a last impatient halt and then
I lift my feet and fall into the sky.
I am pure joy, a gust of wind I blow.
Through cloudy halls of forgotten kings I fly
and look down on soaring hawks below.
Resting on virgin snow I realize
my life began one blessed hour ago
