What it would be to have wings
And lift oneself up
To have
Feathers jewelled like the dark,
Evergreens in the inky night.

To stretch out and hover fast
Against star led currents
And glowing thermals.

The world stretched out beneath,
Like reams of dark memory
Inscribed against iridescent feather.

And then to glide, to down soar
Landing slow, to feel earth's  winged beat
Again, and hold the feathered
Jewels against the heart.