Because
you crawled from dim, watery depths
to conquer the luminous sky,
I am seeking insight.With careful scrutiny
I search for the secrets
I know are hidden
in the intricate folds
and angles
of your cut-glass wings.These scimitar blades
flashed,
thrust,
parried with whirling vortices of air,
and propelled your
zooming,
darting,
dazzling gyrations.Gyrations
that should have brought applause,
"Bravo!"
"Encore!"Gyrations
that did bring breathless wonder
to me:
poor grounded observer,
open-mouthed watcher,
earth-bound plodder,
pitifully envious
would-be Daedalus.Gyrations
that did bring
my jealous net swinging
to pluck you
from the glorious sky.
You were stunned,
indignant,
but knew
that having captured you
I had not captured
your soul.
Now I peer through
the varied panes
of your window wings.
Panes transparent,
panes translucent,
panes opaque,
smoked glass panes with a peek-hole
rubbed clear in the center
between the mullion veins.But the view is blurred.
The secrets are filtered out,
absorbed,
refracted,
held within.Ten-million years of secrets
that grace your too-few days
with this marvelous Gift.Your incomparable mastery of the barely-tangible air
will take more divining
than I have time for today.Perhaps more divining
than is mine to possess.
_________
- Roy Beckemeyer 1997
This Web Page Last Updated 12 October 2001