I wonder about the souls
who drift across the sky
on the golden shafts of air
upon the breeze’s sigh
I can feel them sometimes,
if I close my eyes and see
through shadows on my eyelids
to where the clouds float free
they perch on spires of nimbus
the wind lashes as their hair
their star eyes are unseeing
but open and aware
while I sit here, an earth child
crawling in the dirt
my speech not tendrils of air
but sluggish, not alert
my tresses are of mud
my bones are made of sand
my soul floats in the water,
my body is the land
I envy the sky children
who wear heavens as their gown
but – I wonder if they miss
being able to come down