Light as

A feather falls from the whitest stained wing
Falls, drifts, floats on a breeze, through space and matter
Always down, down.
Light as it is yet it sinks, nothing to catch it
Falling forever, in silence, in solitude, in submission.

A breath, an exhalation, an inspiration stirs this
token of what once was flight.
It trembles and flutters like the heart of a sparrow
caught in vast, soft, warm hands.
Oh to answer the call of the wild, yet so safe
and endlessly present the unexpected haven.
A breath, a blow, an updraft.

Caught, spiralling, throwing patterns through air
in billowing lace.
Up, up, always up through shadows and dust and
faded memories.
Ascending through mist to the clearest sky, painted
with indian ink and neon blue and red flecks across the moon.