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Fly
See them crawling all over the ceiling
Pointing their slender anther in the air,
Their bugling eyes covered in a pound of flesh
Waiting to plunge to their sacramental death
And the wind with a mountain of sin sprawl
Over the lingering roof rattling doors
And splitting up the concrete floors
And the surface filled with residue from the moon
gather dust from the pinnacle in the sky
Swept over the earth running from north to south
And the wisdom of man will surely die
It will burn with the bleeding sun
until the journey is done
The temperature is getting low
And courage has a very long way to go
The mountain is steep and the well is deep
And the battle for the soul is hard to defeat
I stood on the step and look beyond the sky
And watch the rainbow setting in
and the clouds absorbing the human energy
there is something majestic up there
That is disturbing the order of things down here
The mission to the moon will begin soon
If you land on the south
there will be a mountain of doubt
But somewhere between north
and south you will see enough
to make you want to shout
get read for this long and steady journey
It’s time to fly.
Copyright ©
Christine Phillips
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