A Mouse's Dream Of Flight
High in the sun sky.
Circles wide on vectors flow.
Living flakes of wheeling black.
The dreamers goal
carving out a spiral track.
Warm Earth.
Brown and so soft fur, the sleeping mouse.
Tiny breath in and out.
Tiny coughs,
mumbles.
Closed eyes alive with sight.
Within the simple mind is flight.
High above,
cool and fresh,
banking smiling,
beating wings and gliding.
Kite skys breath on feathered skin.
Distant above as we can be.
Far as outer space,
above green peaks
and thin clouds.
As high as a mouse's dream allows.
The arc of the horizon speaks:
we are free
and high in the sun sky.
Circles wide as vectors flow.
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