I am but a soul in this swarm
swept away by storm –
a test for novice wings
now an odyssey on air,
windward, winding through
seasons of fury and memory.
No longer human
at times, all alone
together on darker orbits.
Infant dandelion down
scattered like starlight, forced flight
in the vantablack clutches of Uranus,
beyond all terrestrial comforts,
yearning for our Earth Mother.
I look to the distance to see
fewer family, fewer friends –
they have passed
on stronger winds
elsewhere, beyond the squall,
somewhere I can’t quite conceive.
Even in the eye of the storm
I have no time to think or recall.
I long for the day,
when it comes,
That I touch the earth again.
I will kiss dirt I took for granted.
Let me fall from heaven and settle my roots.
Let me shed these wings and be born anew.
