One is the glider,
And one is the gust,
And the cliff is the question:
Trust land or trust thrust?
It depends on the wind,
And the wings,
And the rider:
Not their skill;
But their union -
One was built for the other.
But if the plane was built wrong -
Built wrong for the breeze -
(For the breeze it was built for!)
Then here's our message for the air:
For the love of your nature,
Give the glider to the sea!
Let canvas rip on water's flame,
And writhing currents cut
And fracture frame.
For you were conjured to fly higher;
And the pilot isn't fooled;
The pilot's watching other lovers
As they escape into the sun!
Grateful to be in flight,
But always with an eye
To greater, warmer height...
We know it's hard to let them fall,
For an airman dropped amongst the waves
Is left to die or swim to shore,
And if they make it to the beach,
You know the tattered remnants
Of their aircraft's waiting there,
Waiting to be built renewed
Built stronger on a memory
Of the time they flew on you
But let them fall
You must or you die
For the waters are coming
And also:
Death can fly.