The flyer

THE FLYER

The world sank; villages and towns,
colourful spots, were wiped away.
A sparkle in the fog its surface sank away;
and then the clouds begon to tumble down.

Oh blue space, who has ever borne your emptiness,
more dreadful than a living soul e’er knew,
does not allow himself to be allured,
by misery or ruse of strong desire, to face your loneliness.

The engine drones awake the heavens dozy,
as on a warm day will a humble-bee
arouse the drowsy valleys from their sleep.

Relieved, more blissfully now beats the awe-struck heart,
when we descend again to earth
with all its suff’ring and its glee.