I can’t imagine going back
To dodging the booby traps
After flying low to scope the landscape
After scraping treetops on the descent
It’s been a while since the last crash landing
Losing bearings, instruments failing
Natives rescuing with bucket brigades
I loved when gravity took over
When I signed the armistice confession
The civilians ceased to starve and burn
In justice prevailed the open hearts
Into the wild blue yonder they ran
Now I’m left with this sensation of falling
Not in any particular direction
It’s more of a freedom pitched flight
Leveling to the upright postures
I’m learning to fly again
Without the weightless flex
Without a net
Without the deep love of crashing