Long before Orville and Wilbur first dreamt
of sailing among the clouds,
we were able to touch the sky.
With a little rope we could fashion for ouselves wings
and fly. We use metal nowadays, but the magic never changed.
Whether you lecture your grandchildren
on the land before the information superhighway’s construction
or slay the house down with Gucci drip,
a trip to the swingset
is your free ticket to flight.
Scraped knees and lingering bills melt
into the sweet melody of childhood bliss.
Asphalt and tire dust fade into the everlasting
expanse of the great open sky
as your feet brush the beyond.
Lean back and let the swaying leaves
tickle your nose and cast your skin the emerald green of the forest.
Look onward and behold cumulus dragons roaming
the heavens, sun-orange vapors drifting from shining snouts.
Let go of yourself, and soar
into an earth-bound paradise,
a world of what’s possible,
no pixie dust required.