From within an airplane I look out
Look about
As we soar high above circling vultures
Regions and cultures
Down below must also be butterflies
And conflicts and a handful of lies
My mind soars
With thoughts tied in mundane lures
Lines written by others flirt
Certify, deify, sometimes throw dirt
Ideas float in and meander
I let them sit still or wander
But leave them alone
They have flown
For long and now I must be an alchemist
And draw something real from this mist.
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Note: Composed during the Birdsong Cottage Writer’s Retreat. The prompt was a poem where alchemy was a major ingredient… I don’t remember the words of that poem now.
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A writer is also an alchemist
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Arvind Passey
05 April 2016
