Altitude

This one is not quite finished, but I like the idea that I awoke with this morning.

I have an attitude about altitude,

about flying on waxy wings

following sunbeams

back to where night's chill

replenishes.

What if Icarus could have flown

over the rainbow with the bluebirds,

would we then be able to believe

in the power of our dreams?

Warnings are warnings,

best heeded, and then seen

in the piercing light of the heart.

We are born lie detectors

with lifetime batteries

if only we believe it.

For now, I'll keep shooting arrows

at shooting stars, I'll be

careful to follow the arc of the universe

for the boomerang effect.

I've drooled on enough pillows

to know that dreams

are night's rollercoaster--

maintenance is required.