Storm Flight

How disappointed
the first flyers
must have been
to finally rise above
the feathery white heavens
and not find themselves
surrounded by angels

       but rather the raw
and exquisite beauty
of nature ballooning along
on intermittent
feet of light

       extending from bases
darkened by their own
sheer density of being
towering above white
Elysian fields

       an expanse which
cannot support the weight
of mere mortals
only wandering souls of gods

       snow blinded by their
own euphoric visions
blown about by prevailing
winds

       serving only to
seek those towering masses
being sucked into
powerful vortices

       climbing
to rise momentarily
above the rest

       only to come
crashing back down
to a corporeal world

       on the tears
of martyred saints. . .