I saw a bird flying high above the trees.
How wonderful it must be, wings stretched wide,
wind gently caressing your face, keeping you suspended above the ground.
In the air there are no obstacles.
You can go up or down,
left or right, as you see fit.
Like the Wonkavato, you can go
and any old ways you choose.
What faith, to trust life to invisible wind.
Would I soar so high on powers I could not perceive?
I tried to imagine what the bird might see.
Was it aware that I watched?
Did it notice my tear?
The bird circled slowly, rising with the wind.
Suddenly it dove to just above the tree tops, and
floated gently back up, up, up towards the heavens.
I watched the bird for a moment , then
turned slowly and went inside.
I am that bird, if only for a time,
at night when sleep gives wings to my dreams.