Leap through the Mist
My mind is a mountain path
with shear cliffs rising on one side
and falling on the other.
There is a temple somewhere above,
perhaps on the peak,
but the architecture is difficult
to see from the gray path.
However, in the lush fertile valley
the gold shimmers
through the cloud covered peaks,
As feet crack
and green is forgotten,
the thought seeds
to jump to feel the fall,
a measure of the height reached.
Without weight, but within the drag of the air,
perhaps the full spectrum is painted,
and feathers spread from the brush.
-Robert L. Jackson III