Caught

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Words like birds encircle clouds in altitudes and attitudes 
that stretch and strain my feelings to contain.
Atmospheres so thin they are denied their place, no words or birds in space.
The history of this world contained within the human race.
I watch in disbelief and mourn for those who cannot feel the ruffled plume, 
or walk alone the hall and enter not the room.
A Drop of water in a wave still reaching for the moon.
Alas that we might go forth brightly shining
in transcendence nightly wild afar, gliding swiftly carried past the lining
of souls who mourn their quiet death beneath perceptions passing star.
Allow a candle’s flame inhale the darkness until spent
stand in awe at last to watch all trials heaven sent.
There’s nothing left afoul to tame, nor in the hiding be of shame.
All is all, but all for naught, if in the final net; one soul uncaught.

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