By Maya Green
Our hands reach out to the sky
Our imagination, just fully consumes us
And with dizzying effect, we let it fly:
Our hope — which we take closely with us
To the beyond, to where the eyes can’t see
Yes, to the yonder, and to the beyond
Flying us to the edge, closer to the Deon
To where, this consciousness disappears
Right to that point — of seeming madness
At which point, we have no knowledge of
Across the void of uncertainty
Where only silence lies, is what we imagine
To where only stillness — is what prevails
Yes, such a destination, is scary
But then, exciting, all at the same time
Like sailors drawn, to the calls of the sirens
Drawing and pulling all, onto the rocks
But fear not, for ‘tis about the escape
This is — about the dash for freedom
As we navigate, this ever tumultuous sea
But, you say, our feet are rooted
Very much here, on the ground
We are stuck on this ‘terra firma’
Yes, in fact, we are firmly planted
Being made of terra cotta, in the dust
Arise, my man, yes arise!
Go for the sky, and go for the beyond.
Climb the powerful ladder of freedom!
Ride on the energy of righteous anger!
Arise, just arise, my man!
Dateline:
A revisit of flight of imagination
March
