Poems (Kennedy)/Flying
For works with similar titles, see Flying.
FLYING
AH, heart of mine, if I could but flyUp under the cup of the bending sky, And drift and drive and soar and dip Like a wingéd thing in a great air ship, I know what I would do.
I'd speed to the east o'er the cobalt blueAnd find the gap where the day breaks through, And 'neath Aurora's golden wand I'd peep to see what lay beyond That dim, uncharted space.
Then I'd tack away o'er the night's black barsAnd the story learn of sentinel stars; And, passing by in a splendid gale, The surly Man-in-the-Moon I'd hail As an old, familiar friend.
In the veering winds where the pale mists crowdI'd bump right into the rose-hued cloud On which the cherubs lean to see The world and its far mystery— The cherubs the artists love.
And the trophies I'd bring from my daring flight?A ribbon of mist where the day breaks white, The Moon-Man's name—an unknown thing— A feather plucked from a seraph's wing, And the secrets of all the skies.