Stairways Flight

I sit in fields of brushing growth

I call in rolling wind

I arch to the solace of dropping light 

I move in rippled steps

To valleys the flipping page opens up 

To clouds overhanging time 

To rivers of starry divide 

To peace pulsing from the giants spin

I see with eyes closed gently

I float in a golden sphere 

I mark the sand for others to pass

And I bow to the fiddlers play,

In the melodies of motion to the heavens 

mF

(Image by Blake)