From the very top of Grey Butte,
the peaks and canyons of Yosemite
flash around us as they do.
But above, in an ocean of deep-blue sky,
four-five-six dark birds come circling
in airborne play, drifting in the currents of wind.
Why are they up here, so high?
What space is theirs! What spaciousness
beyond the narrow summits of our tethered limbs!
According to St. Thomas Aquinas,
reason takes us so far.
Beyond that, wings.
Photo by nader saremi on Unsplash
Thank you Paul. I love where your poems take me.
Thanks much. In a much more sober way than the whacko movie, this lovely poem reminded me of *The Adventures of Baron Munchausen.*
“flash around us”
My breath caught, then drifted, “untethered.”
Breathing slower, deeper.