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Flying High
Flying high.
Crystal cool clear blue sky.
White sun meets my eyes.
It shines on the smooth dark sea below.
The tower stands tall and bronze.
Dustless, erect.
Hard stone,
a spire of gold.
A sign of success,
salute of joy,
and all that is best.
A future to be,
of brilliant love and granite victory.
Twin sisters curl.
Silver tails unfurled.
Swimming in air.
Pale flesh, soft, warm and pure.
Flows of hair.
Henna and wheat.
Gentle voices cry and sing
the dawn of this day,
and sign,
this lucid perfection mine,
this crystal cool clear blue sky
I bathe in,
flying high.
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