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by Nancy Clark
Nestled in the shadowed space
behind your eyelids,
you drift on dark flows
and lingerings of light,
a child afloat, sliding
like slow breeze, playing
near emerging loops and plumes
that rise like gases in your galaxy
marked "Private--No Admittance."

With downcast eyes
you watch your feet,
secured by groundboundness
like a crawler, unblessed
and wingless.

Five years in school
and for the first time now
you raise your hand in class.
Your teacher, suddenly a midwife
to a runway clearance,
stifles "Oh, my God,"
calmly calls your name,
and on the tender wings
of answer and assurance
you lift a fragile inch
above gravity.

Airborne once, twice comes
and more in giddy addiction.
pulses unarticulated through
your mind like fuel that makes
love to possibilities.

Your nutshelled universe
breaks inside-opened-out
and bright
for soaring sunshine wide
and inspiration high.

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Copyright © 2003 by Nancy Clark. All rights reserved.