deadlines. . .cancellations
hectic rescheduled
hesitations

zone to zone
my time is gone
and I'm glidin'
flyin'
tryin' hard not to
lose the control

time flyin' by
irks my synchronized
soul, puts my mindset
in a slingshot,

and Faa-LING! I fly like
a double stacked checker
in a game of flyin' kings,

patterns shoot upward
in a path of going going
going gone like blue angels
who carry me on chariots
as their nostrils flare--

I cannot contain
this deadline game
for the atmospheric
pressure pushes me
back in time,

so I rush, fuss,
make my way
up-up-up and away,
to the ringing
of my mission controlled
alarms, trying to survive the game
like the pilots who
skywrite their names
in the clear blue sea of
short lived fame--

still like maya, I rise
and fall and deal with
life as I soar and sway
to the navigation,
the indignation of
following directions
that are not my own--

time for take-off
clear the runway
gotta live gotta
give gotta
fly another day
. . . and sometimes
we gotta follow the pattern
that takes us anywhere
except far away.



© 2004 by cynth'ya lewis reed