Falling From the Sky
Falling from the sky, so high,
can I just stay, a cloud so weightless
to drift in that river blue, atop my thoughts
pursued by dreams, and for all it seems,
redeemed for falling from my perch,
an earthly lurch from slumber
to a disconcerting beam,
a shard mellow, from heaven to earth.
So settled in my sentient meandering,
and dreams so incumbent upon my hopes,
I will not forego the scope of this, my escape,
and fall I regret, having left
the very sustenance of my rest,
and what let loose my hold on clouds,
those pillows my comfort fold
in letting go of all that tweaks my reality.
Waking is such a mood buster,
a lack-luster fall from grace,
when dreams are my flight of freedom’s sky,
and I cannot fault that freedom I aspire
in dreams so fragile it seems,
that I can fall so profoundly,
to a grounding earthly halt
of splattered thoughts.
So high, so clear of life’s boundary
I sat in melancholy, reflecting all the joy and allegory
of all the human traits I so misconstrue,
and bear their weight,
their lumpy stew in life’s lessons to sate,
and in that, cleanse my soul,
adhere those changes that make my life,
and now it ends so abruptly.
So long, this fall in slow motion,
the air like rushing water,
skin rippling in currents strong,
as the world gets closer, and my heart
sunken in a deflated slump,
wishes more time in flight,
an easier plight than earth,
as I land upon my bed,
bouncing like a ball, I steady myself and sigh,
for I have returned, begrudgingly,
and plead for sleep to once again, deliver me.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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