~a short meditation on flight, five~

and into this house of the sun 
i am carried again
swept up
held, and
laid down in its luster
soft center churning gold
into golden
rims
burning and brimming full
fuller and fuller, thicker and
rounder, rounder rims
        we 
                p
                   l
                      u
                           n
                           
                                      g
                                             e
and we
                 d
                      i
                            v
                              e


and then we  f l  y    f o r    f o  r   e    v     e      r
in all
and in every
d    i    r    e    c    t    i    o    n


again