Flying High

The birds above flying,
high above they are,
there they are soaring,
not a care for us here,
I wish I can fly with them,
for I want to be without care,
What a wonder to be with them,
Flying, soaring as what they are,
My hearts beat faster,
how it long to be at peace,
wishing that it too had the power,
the power of flight, of peace,
I wish I can fly away,
so I can leave all my trouble,
so I can go far away,
away from the material plane.
2.04 am 24 May 2003
notes on the poem:
written on a melancholy morning, not sleeping for a day and more can have it’s effect. coupled with the environment its perfect 🙂

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