Here I am,
on absent land
No clouds up here,
free from the atmosphere
Held by a thread,
a thread of discontent
Cut my string,
and give me a satellite's wing
Help me break my need for weight
And fly somehow
Now I find I'm half a world away
trying to make another comfort place
but the ground beneath me, slips away.
And the air hits my feet, and sends me on my way
To find some peace of mind and levity.
To grab a little piece of sky serenity
And fly,
Fly, into the ground.
I'm used to it; the crash and burn, the loss of wing
The gasping breath that pleads my idle sails to sing
Of something else, of something new, of something free from gravity.