by Michael Morse
Look at me as if I exist. My wings are spread in flight. I have somewhere to go. You are drawn to me. You wish to ride my back, feel the wind, soar higher, and higher until the fear of flying is lost. The branches seem fragile, but here you are weightless. Join me in flight, and know what it means to be alive.
Blurred vision is new to you, but do not mourn your loss of sight, soon, all will be understood. Reach toward the sky. Touch me, climb into the void and fly. Finally, we are together.