sky

I lift my finger and trace the sky
watch the iris of your eye
the dark rim
the ink splotch on my page
and your soft words
clinging
to my neck
I desire what I see but not what
I feel
and wish that I
can rise to the clouds with the birds
yet so grounded
to the roots of the tree
but will you let me
soar but stay
fly but fall
I worry that one day
as the glare of orange fire
meets with blue peace
I won't be able
to choose
in the treetops
or under the soil
where do I belong
where do I stay
where do i feel
like
me.