The Breeze by Margaret V. Doran
The Breeze
Margaret V.Doran
Blue on blue on blue on aqua on cream
growing larger
swaying and billowing ever higher
in awe I watch
As the fabric ripples; unfolds layer
after layer
sides rising, filling, rounding
from its flat beginning
Stuffed in a humble suitcase
with leather straps
now opening, wind coursing through
a cavern creating
The burner going
heat blowing the air inside
rising to full capacity
the basket now upright
Pulling in the tethers
lifting without motion to the wind
the earth gently receding
as it pulls away from my stationary flight
Silent running on the breeze
the breathing of the burner
like a dragon blowing
its hot breath ever upwards
Levitating, floating, never moving
just being on the air currents
like an eagle soaring
ever higher, living in the wind
Being one with the heavens
as they embrace and accept
my presence and I sail
serene and at peace in my basket
My hand controlling the flame
I and the breeze
The breeze and I
I am the breeze
Copyright © 1997 Margaret V. Doran.
All rights reserved.
If you enjoyed this poem, please send her an e-mail here. 
Updated July 1, 1999
Return to Title Page