Will you tell me about the sky?
About the place where all the birds fly?
Where the clouds spread and cry
During the summer months.
.
Nothing but the smallest speck of dirt.
Tucked between the rocks of the desert.
To see the sky advert,
away from me, without the grounding Earth.
.
Is it possible I could lay my hands?
To roam up parallel to the land?
Where I can scan
The space beyond the forgotten path?
.
Piece by piece, I want to grow larger,
Until I could touch the blue plane and see farther.
To meet those clouds as I hover higher.
My fingers against the provider of breaths.
.
Have you ever seen the sun at eye level?
Or the way the clouds mix like marble?
Colliding with the unfixed turn of time.
The wind lifting any and everyone for the short lifeline.
.
A chance to swirl regardless of ties.
About the Creator
Rachael Anra
Hi, my name is Racahel. I'm an Indigenous writer from Arizona who loves poetry, horror, soft fantasys, and biographies. Currently, I am renewing my love for writing by driving back into it!
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