Waiting To Fly
The pressure is stronger
and the breath quick and short.
The ages, contracted,
in new timelines resort.
The tension in planets,
the expansion in Sun,
flitting rainbows in flashes,
shift in poles seem all done.
In the North is too cold,
in the South too hot.
Butterflies to extinction
deadly weapons have dropped.
Yes, the ages are pressing,
for the Jump is to make!
Our belts we all fasten
through the straits of the drake.
When hits final Momentum?
When Great Day gives a cry?
O, how eons we wandered,
to take wing and to fly!
.
.
.
Cosmic Liberty 