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(To My Pilot)

By FRANKIE IPSEN May 10, 2022

Soaring above the clouds,

dancing in the sky with the sun in my face,

outracing the clouds,

with nowhere to be.

Where should I go?

Anywhere I go,

an adventure shall await.

If not for the sun in the sky

with its bed of clouds,

I could fall but not yet touch the ground.

What am I chasing?

As I am gliding,

the wind is flowing through my wings.

The bright white sky in my front window,

all I can see in my rearview mirror is time.

What is that bright white sky?

Faster and faster, I glide,

hiding from what is below.

Solid ground is what I remember before my flight.

So long ago it seems like.

What is it that I am hiding from?

For the sky is open and clear,

like a highway in the night.

No highway rules,

just the rules of the sky.

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