On the wings of our imaginations
and the homeliness of Cloud 9
may we never touch the ground.
The only way to fly.
The air is so much softer
and all is calm and sweet.
So high we fly from the critical eye
of the ground beneath our feet.
Remember when we tried
to let our toes embrace the soil,
but the ground was hot and hostile
and it boiled with all that's spoiled.
They wouldn't listen to our stories
of sunsets and beautiful clouds,
or the love we tried to smuggle down.
No-one down there is allowed.