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Flying

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My thoughts float over the ground

They fly between blades of grass

Around sweet smelling flowers

Through the leaves of trees

The thoughts float on the clouds

And ride them for some time

They rush over rocks with the water

And get swept downstream

They go like that for many miles and hours

But eventually

They return to me

They pick up a pen

And put it in my hand

My hand moves across blank pages

Leaving behind

A Trail

A Tale

Of the journey they took

Painted in many colors and shades

Until it is done

And it’s time for the thoughts to take flight once more




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