ya-hey ya-ho (to fly)

Poem #17 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction

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there is clean air
clear air
above

methodically
he continues climbing

the light
is not revealing
but neither
can it be said
to be dark

his hands
find their holds
his feet grip
to lift him
one place higher

he climbs

he climbs

it ends

in a sudden moment
vertical
is gone
he lies
horizontal
across the top
then upright

to breathe in the clean
to inspire
a full breath
of clear

and feel the buoyancy
of laughter
rise within him

a run
of just three steps

ya-ho
ya-hoo

near
and nearer

behind

he has launched
himself
towards the centre
of the abyss

begins to fall

arms wide
and feathers primed
he starts to ride the current
feel the updraft

circling in slow
evolving spirals
he flies

yeh
ya-ho
ya-hey

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© Frank Prem 2017

Bachelard and me Poem #18: ‘instant’ pillars