poem: the union

The Union

I watched a big-winged bird one day
As I looked up in the sky. My head tilted,
Eyes squinted. I watched that bird

Spread open his dark-tipped wings, catch a breeze
And freeze, like a statue made of feathers.
Without effort he climbed an imaginary ladder
Through the clouds. Then they held him
Like an anchor, tethered to the wind.

And in his post he was balanced
Without motion. Suspended,
As if held by puppet strings
Across the sky. He sat on air, still

With angled wings open. Force against force
Resistance lifted him upward. And he rested
In the union. He could enjoy the view
From up there. Now here

I stand, transfixed.
And I wonder what it would be like to soar.

~rjr