How surreal it is,
lofted above the wrinkles in the landscape,
where clouds settle like a dropped cloth
on peaks and valleys,
to find distance.
Yet how surreal to be grounded!
To reach overhead and let morning dew
travel down your fingers,
to explore the splintered surface
of golden timber not yet weathered.
Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 10:57 PM UTC
How surreal it is,
lofted above the wrinkles in the landscape,
where clouds settle like a dropped cloth
on peaks and valleys,
to find distance.
Yet how surreal to be grounded!
To reach overhead and let morning dew
travel down your fingers,
to explore the splintered surface
of golden timber not yet weathered.