I would just stand before the wind,
and get caught up in a particular way,
floating like a kite above the earth
while others watched
and longed for
my skill.

Transcendent, I’d soar, beyond all reach.
It felt so natural, while many asked
for my secret sauce. I tried to explain
since it was all in the technique. I stood
before the gusts &
just let go, lift-off,
I felt ecstasy–
a butte...

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It is a curse

To have a flying soul

And a cinderblock mind

To feel the call of the sky

But to be afraid of heights

I am Schrödinger's cat

Alive and dead

At the same time

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