I weep for wind

and flight,

swooping on wings.

I lift my soul

circling the sun

in blink of an eye,

wrapping my feet in

hollow feathers.

Let me float over stars

and under the moon,

a fantasy of spinning,

hovering above

filmy clouds of light,

dancing in tangos

of silky breezes.

All life can be seen

when looking behind,

born to fly high

above tomorrow.

The first steps are, and have always been

the hardest.

The second steps come with wavering 

heartbeats,

but with solid, strong, stomps.

The third steps are fleeting, accompanied by

an empty mind,

and upon the fourth,

you may notice that your feet are no longer

on the ground.