Monday, 31 May 2010

The dot of an i

I look down and find myself
Atop a Mayan ruin,
Gazing out over miles of Guatemalan jungle.
Lush green trees stretch their branches for miles beneath me,
Monkeys wake with the sun and
Yawn their howls through the branches that they swing through.
Birds flutter their wings as they stretch from their nest.
Beaks open and tweets sound to the ground where
A baby bird has stretched too far and fallen,
It´s head twisted giving away its broken neck.

I float within my thoughts,
Content and puffy faced.
A mere speck,
The dot of an i.
A tiny ink stain on this rock
That peeps over this green sea.

I must have leapt from a cloud,
For I don’t belong in this world that I have jumped into,
The way you jump into a dream -
Feet first, holding your nose -
And your eyes squeezed tight shut.