asking

he stood
atop the headland
a shear slope
down
to the distant sea

raised his wings

raised
his head

I wish

he spoke
his voice contained

within

I wish
with you
to ride

I would leave
this earth
behind me

leave it
below

wind
oh wind

he ran
some few paces
along the edge
of the land

wind

hear me
oh wind

will you allow
that I should ride

a ruffling
of pinions

a cool breath
from the wide

he turned
to face again
the sky
and the waters

one step
the air

the ride

~

Poem #499 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.