Flying

Soaring above the tree tops
                         Wings rippling in the wind,
                                                 This is where life begins.
Peace all consuming
                 Heart beating slow,
                                 The bird gracefully swoops down
Among the trees.
              Humans cannot touch it.
                                   No man alive can harm it.
It is where it belongs.
                     On top of the world,
                                      Resting on a thin line
In a clear vast sky
                 It never concerns itself with the land below.
                                                            For it has the privilege
Of flying.