Drumlin Flight

Rising chords echo & fall
Songs of ancient days
Circling above cityscapes
Beyond cringing steel
& criss-crossed potholes
I explore. Freedom flys.
Eyelashes flicker in sleep.
Wings etched as glass
Paint eskers, ridges, hills
Marshes, valleys, grasslands
Waves golden, green, russet
Rushing winds surround me
Tempe rhythms beat time
Into shorelines, drumlin heights
And in dreams, I often soar
As a bird, returning
Earth to earth
Sky to sky
Restoring places unseen
Tracing God’s footprints

© 2012 S. Michaels
Breakaway – Spreading Wings

Higher Flight

I will go, I’ll fly again
Aloft where eagles bend
And slice cool winds
With wings of steel
Where land gives way
Where rivers wend
Criss-crossing deep
With vision clear
I’ll take it all in
Wide, bigger views
Loving all that’s true
I will take flight again
I’ll whirl, laugh and play
Refusing to give up or in
I will go back to redesign
Forgotten things and dreams
And rest my soul at times
In havens evergreen
I’ll know life’s poetry more
In every splash of lake
Where sunsets spin and sink
And rise above distant hills
Where winds blow low and sweet
I will rise on wings in awe
Unafraid of the silent call
Of higher flights, above, beyond
I’ll fly this course again

© S. Michaels
Breakaway – Spreading Wings

Monsoon Park

Swarmed by tangled vines
She landed here often
soft as the clouds lifting
after the monsoon rains
It was where she wandered
almost without knowing
and whenever she needed
the world to slow down.
Slipping with green shadows
with whispering bougainvillia blooms
cloistered by pungent shady boughs
she felt peace flowing as silk
and strong arms of iron gates
holding her fast, ornately out of place
sheltering the small park from
blasting, crushing city roars
and lions in the street.

One day, perhaps soon
Or maybe years from now
She would wander down
To the fountain orange grove
Where mothers rolled
Sweets out of baskets
For children, late afternoons
Strolling winding paths
Along the wide river.
But for now this solace
Was her own, breathing in
Voltaire, breathing out
“We are rarely proud
when we are alone.”

Words and space as oxygen
And all of God’s earth her garden

© 2012 S. Michaels
Breakaway – Spreading Wings

August Flight

Surfing asphalt

Taxi cabs grab fares

City parks slumber

A lone dog grins

Heading out at last

Takes a playful bite

An oversized kid

On a bike too small

Speeds past toddlers

Trundling to daycare

Rumbling dumpster

Shakes dust down

On three derelicts

Lost souls asleep

Under the Academy bridge

Runners keep pace

Limbs stretched to the limit

Cyclists spin and spin

A wild-haired girl races

Leaping in orange shoes

Reflected in Art City windows

A girl in Christmas colours

Sips a frosty ice latté

Slurpy summer heat

Records late hours of August

Somewhere near Boon Café

Sultry days simmer

And consider flying south

© S. Michaels
Breakaway – Spreading Wings


Updraft, lift me
Where I may soar…
Higher ground,
Stand me firm
Stronger than
I was before…
Woodlands cool
Bright meadows
Tall sentinel trees
Hold me close
As rain and breeze…
Highways, lead me
Beyond borders far…
Earth, let me linger
And sing your songs…
Sky, let me gaze
And touch the moon…
Sun, let me laugh
And love life long…

© 2012 S. Michaels
Breakaway – Spreading Wings