Flying

Sometimes when I look around me and see the trees bending in the wind,
When I feel the chill of the breeze cut through my clothes and caress my skin,
Then I think of flying,
Sometimes when I gaze up with wide wondering eyes,
When I am blinded by the brilliance of the sun,
Then I wish for wings,
Sometimes when I am alone in a crowd,
When I’m surrounded by the inane conversations of fools,
Then I dream of floating up above it all,
Sometimes when I’m alone,
When everything is calm and silent,
I stand perfectly still and I hold my arms out straight,
And I wait for the breeze to come,
It swirls around me and through me,
It fills me with air and I can start to feel it lifting my arms and my heart,
Then I can open my eyes and look down at this incredible world,
I can look down at this incredibly selfish world,
This incredibly unfair and unjust world,
And for just a second none of that matters,
Because it’s all so beautiful from up here.