Your feet are not firm enough.
Moment.
Concentration lapse.
You float away, or you sink down,
Through layers of yourself hidden so long.

Are the bird's feathers necessary?
Or just for decoration?
Let us arrange them better,
Neater,
Not  a one out of place.

If only we had some scissors and some glue,
Then you too, brave friend, could become as the birds.

The sky would taste sweet - but not sickly.
I feel it would taste of health,
But to reach it is so far.
Stand on my shoulders and perhaps you'll make it.

Float on into perception.