The dream of Flight
Flight Away Flight High Flying in Exhilaration
One unique Road untraveled A Line through All Under Heaven
All Over Heaven A Line of Eight Thousand A Pure and Chilly Eight Thousand
Eight Thousand in G Eight Thousand Escapes in One
And a gentle metaphorical return back To Zero
A Zero that has regained its Lustre

I like to stare at the blinds until faces start appearing in the fabric. Smiles, noses, eyes-
they all jump out and morph into one. When they start mouthing things to me, that’s when I tend to look away. Sometimes, I look for faces in the shadows of objects lying around the house.
There’s a particularly amusing silhouette of what could well be queen Victoria that
pokes out behind the curtain ruffles. I go
looking for her sometimes on purpose, because I know she’ll be there and it’s
something to be certain of.

If I could inject a feeling into my body every day, it would be that of certainty.
I fear I am an addict to the art of prediction and delusion,
so much so that I have developed an intolerance to uncertainty.
My therapist would like that I’m using that,
that’s one of her favourite lines.
I live my whole life in a recurring conspiracy. I firmly believe things are going to happen and am genuinely shocked when
they inevitably don’t.

But there is something so tantalising about allowing myself to drink up an illusion of certainty.
I like the control and
I love the power it convinces me of.

Hold me, hold our love,

which is already slipping --


away from our hearts.

Trying to find an

attitude, as attitude --


staying on the side.

Tired mornings greet me, weary and bleak,
As summer's heat whispers fears, I can't speak.
I wonder where this is all going?
Where it's taking me?
Beyond the heat the skies seem so clear,
If only I could see past summers sear.
In the haze of warmth, thoughts entangle,
Yearning for a colder clarity, hot hopes to untangle.

Soon I'll set sail for an unknown shore,
So I've rigged the mast as best I could,
My destination's a mystery . . .
And I fear -- maybe more than I should

If turbulent waves capsize my boat
That would be the least of my fears,
For I've survived the vagaries of Love --
More than once I've drowned in my own tears

At times I've tripped on Love's tangled vines,  
So I'm not concerned I might fall;
Life's storms battered me relentlessly,
But I stood fast and weathered them all

Death may inflict nights as black as coal,
Freezing winds that could turn flames to ice;
But Life's fickle ways have tempered me
For just such reckless rolls of the dice

But who's to say what perils may lurk
In the darkness of Death's corridor;
Will peace prevail, or some unknown dread
When my eyes close and I breathe no more?

Knowing I must break my bond with Earth,
Just the notion shakes me to the core . . .
Taken from this world against my will,
Exiled from my home  . . . forevermore!

no matter how many times
i've crossed these tracks
nor how old i might now be
i will still feel
that childlike excitement
building within
as i look cautiously
left then right and
left then right again
just to be sure
before stepping across
that first metallic line
a symbol of both
danger and adventure
rechecking the signals
as i cross the second
i have never understood
what those lights tell
of the next train's progress
red yellow green
single or double
flashing or constant
no matter how clear
the tracks appear
the uncertainty of
what might soon be
unstoppably approaching
always sets me on edge
momentarily apprehensive
yet exhilarated by
each rushed step