To soar above the things of man…

While cradled in a mighty hand;

And touch the skies and clouds we’re in…

Become a friend; as do the wind…

For I have seen what lurks below;

In somber days, but who would know…

The meaning of my long lost hopes;

As---I past over majestic slopes…

Trembling as the cold wind dares…

Remind me of those long lost years;

When life was much more dear to me…

And I was young and so carefree;

I soared above the things of man…

And clasped on to a mighty hand;

Which took me from those things below…

For in my soul, I had to grow.

Ever reaching high above…

Through clouds and storms---and unshared love;

To touch the hand with strength to hold…

And cling until the story’s told;

My mind has crossed the uncrossed stream…

Where none have been---save in a dream;

Clutching tight---to the veins that feed…

The liquid life our body need;

And though I lift my head I see…

Those things of man---still haunting me;

How can I miss that which I knew...

Had passed beyond before I grew;

In dark and lonely layers of life…

Ending now in subtle strife;

So manhood now obstructs my sight…

But I have seen---beyond “The Flight”