There are many ways to land
One is to crash through the top of the canopy
-horizon flies up in your view-
and gun and brake and hit the nearest wall
and keep your bones and story close
One is to not land
to drift above your life
not in the past, not in the present, not in the future
of no country, of no allegiance.
If only you could rise and not fall.
You are so nearly out of dimension.
One is to not leave the ground at all but to land by time
and time again
awakening to say
come back down, come back down
find a way
the illusion of the solid
can again be enough
though you know now what ground is
that every molecule in your life is on the move
in random direction
Land, without moving, in the apparition of form
for as long as you are lucky enough to take up
just this much space.
