Frigid fingers clench and crimp
painful pressure of granite flake,
rubber soles smear rigid ripples
tethers to the horizontal slashed.
Whistle of wind.
Thump of heart.
Lifting off with taloned wings,
rising into azure sky,
silence broken only
by staccato feathered cries,
frosty mist of puffing breath.
Whistle of wind.
Thump of heart.
Graceful movements,
vertical ballet,
lost in ethereal pleasure
of peaceful ascent.
Whistle of wind.
Thump of heart.
Rising above earthly things
to rim of nature’s crown,
legs kick and dangle,
whipping tendrils of hair,
one moment of divinity
looking down on the clouds,
sole company at the pinnacle.
Whistle of wind.
Thump of heart.
Standing tall under nothing,
heaven’s beatific, smiling dome,
swirling desires forge lump in throat
pent emotion drives tears unleashed
splashes of paint over unknowable canvas
of longing.
34 lines of free verse
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