Kissing the Sun
Down on the ground,
prairie dogs and potholes,
I sometimes long to be high up in the trees,
tasting the sweet breeze
shimmering through the leaves.
But earthbound I am, in a world of lies.
Brush off that dirt clinging to my soul!
Savor the slap of the desert's hot breath.
Relish defeat.
There's a certain honesty in deceit.
Lucifer, Icarus, and Amelia Earhart
all fell from the sky.
Proud among the clouds,
seeking glory among men,
soon swallowed by the ground,
never to rise again.
Crushed though I am,
a weed among wheat,
withering beneath the blue-sky-black,
I nod wisely to the prairie dogs:
The chains,
they are of my own making.
Struggling to stand.
Pride after the fall.
Struggling to stand …
Pride … after the fall.
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