Paper Plane

I am so like a paper plane,
launched by hands into the wind,
air catches beneath my wings,
I flutter up, up, and down,
still drifting under the clouds.

Up, down, I swirl all around,
into the thundering rainstorm,
wet drops fall onto my wings,
heavy, I fall down, down,
coming to the ground.

For a long time, I lie
soaked, cold, heavy,
dizzy, like I’m about to drown
in the ocean’s darkest hour,
still, I hear a whispering sound.

Shining through the clouds,
the sun arrives in its hour.
Heat finds me, I dry.
My wings lift again, I cry:
Lightly, I am alive, lively!

Again I fly, for I’m so ready!
No hands send me this time.
I rise up, up, and soar
away from the hands
and the land where I have landed.

~

… far from history,
close to the mysterious,
and as I turn to look at where I come from,
I face the eye of the storm …

then I call out …

please…
if you choose to take me back
to the land where I come from,
please…
let me fall into the hands
of the one I love.