We go up, up and out.
Twisting and turning,
Falling and rising.
Draining our fuel to refuel.
Selfishly parting clouds in our path:
"Step aside thou fluffy pillows"
As we soar like birds through the heavens.
A weightless floatation,
A lightness of breath.
The sun rests her head on our back,
As ground below appears in gridded map.
Turbulent dreams have fleeting fear,
And calms as destination nears.
