If I had wings to fly,
I'd breathe in deep
and spread them wide;
as I leap from the cliff
into the wind,
where the seagulls glide.

Crossing this vast land,
I glide above cruel mountains
that reach up to stop my flight,
with their cold and jagged
snow covered peaks.

And as your day grows slowly light,
I'd arrive on worn-out wings,
to hold you
in your waking dreams,
and feel you strong
and yet gently warm,
in my embrace at last.

~~Fiddler 01/24/02