PAPER PLANES

Drip, drip, drip...drop
Tears of blood hit the floor
Tick, tick, tick...tock
Time is running out, he heads out he front door.

Father Time all the while never said why so deeply with love Mother Nature cared for Earth's children,
Whose eyes once held a gleam, beneath which Heaven's heart is hidden.
Stars shine, the moon comes out at night.
Sun rises, the kids come out to play.

I want to fly, I want to fly...I heard a boy say. His little heart grew with joy as he set to task.
Maybe a kite will give his gentle heart flight. Perhaps paper planes will give glide his pure soul into the skies.
Alas! Up, up and away his little plane went. A moment of joy, the wind whistled, birds sang, the boy laughed...I smiled.

In that moment I sensed a certain loss. Days like this snatched from memory or so and so I thought
While paying mind to life's obstructions, that was society's plot.
Why did the child make a plane even when he knows it'll fall?

The Lion's strength is pride, his roar soars to the skies.
But you never hear him cry or tell stories of his scars.
The stars shine at night, so find light in darkness.
There's diamonds in the rough, so find beauty in the madness.

These thoughts brought me down to Earth, back to the Mother's love.
Blessings of Father Time I'll use to find me joy.
This time I'll listen to my heartbeat and then write me a song...
Or paper planes I'll fly even if they one day fall.

PAPER PLANES, A poem by David Steven.