The Pilot

Thinking of him flying on a stormy day

Flight is freedom,
dancing with the sky
gliding the clouds
way up high.

The Pilot controls
this leap to the air
he follows the paths
with calm and care.

Knowing the feeling
the thrill of the fly
on stormy night
or a clear Spring sky.
 
Into a sunrise
on an early summer morn
or amongst black clouds
following a storm

He's an eagle rising
to wheel and spin
to feel the joy
swelling within.

Flying no matter
bright day or dark night
happy up there
controlling the flight.

Back to earth
at the end of a day,
released from the tensions
which melted away.

He was created
to take to the sky
this Pilot of mine
was born to fly.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

To be able to fly. Open sky would be ultimate freedom. The smaller planes would be fun to dance with the clouds with. A wonderful poem shared dear Amber.
Coyote

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like your tribute to your pilot...and your poem made me imagine what it would be like to be an eagle...and to be able to fly on a whim....
and to look down and gather in the scene...much like in Tennyson's "the Eagle"
you make this majestic.
j.

[Sarah K Cass]

Thank you very much!

[...Relic...]

I used to jump motorcycles over hills but I never had a pilot's license so I couldn't jump too far. :)

I'm sure being a pilot must be a great feeling, knowing he's in control and within the bounds of freedom and serenity.

Nice rhymes.

[Chris Shaw]

Much responsibility comes with the lot of being a pilot. All his/her passengers and their safety to consider as well as the elements and that flight deck with all its intricate controls. Having said that, the freedom of taking to the skies, must be second to none Amber. Must be wonderful to have that feeling of control. I like where you took me with your well written verse.Great visuals too.

Chris