A Practical Guide on Safe Flying

A poem with its own subjective interpretation for the “practical” part

Photo by MissMushroom on Unsplash

Following the heart is my air,
It’s in my breath with its oxygen,
The soul-striking passions are rare,
Without which, can’t say, “I won”.

In my fantasies I may float,
But, the clouds got me where I am,
And whenever I fell, ’twas into a boat,
So, in worst waters, can’t say, “I swam”.

Did the boat follow where the wind took?
No, I remembered to check where I’d fall,
So I still remember to simply look,
And steer away from grounds I can’t crawl.

So, I let the air take me up and down;
Indeed, a flight with risk and fear.
Careful to not fall where I’d drown,
I still fly — for all that’s dear in my air.

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