(BG)

 

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On a flying day, on a flying night


Talking or avoiding words,

Sighing desperately

Or shrieking with joy,

Bending head over my troubles

Or staring aimlessly out through the window -

My life flies (it's not a trite metaphor),

My life flies

In jet-like  irrevocability.

 

My wingless gestures fly,

My failures fly,

My wisest plans for tomorrow

Turn into flying memories...

I might have sunk

Somewhere into myself,

I might have got silly with love

Or benumbed with sorrow -

My life flies with cosmic precision.

I am but a traveler

On a flying day, on a flying night.

 

I ask for no direction

In the boundless landscape.

I have no idea - am I going or coming back?

But I do know that forthcoming

Is the Great landing

When man shall

Read out the skies.

 


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