Surging Ahead

I pick myself up with elevation and tempered elation. Turn it all around to lift spirit from the ground. Wipe the grime soiling with desperation within my station to choose the path of sound that springs up from the ground. My engines purr with prospect rich to burn my stitch in time with rhyme sublime to peg my steady climb with hues resplendent dancing dizzy in a fervent pitch insistently silent like a mime yearning to reveal my prime. The horizon beckons playful in curve while guiding my verve, gently cupping the slope of my lip should my trip tear a rip, your ardor shall hold firm enough to swerve until I find nerve to crack through that ultrasonic whip even as the hounds nip.