Wish

30 feet up, zero to the edge,
Upon my face, challenging, connecting
Winds of Southern velvet, transparent,
flowing, touching, dominating
kissed with a hint of salt ice
i wish not for wings, i do not run.

Oh, cold winds, as blue as the sea,
tear open the doors to my heart.
blast away my fear, teach me your fury.
take my soul and rub it on the hindu-kush
soak it with the purity of Baikal lake
set it upon the lazy glaciers of Patagonia
roll it through the Mongolian seas of grass
and bind it to the hooves of Andalusian horses.

drop this rebel cloud, beyond the last horizon
To rise from that seed yet again, gain, again.


and when the day came, there was a man
who died with truly dirty feet.