The Falcon’s Spiral by Joan Currie

Upon the highway’s winding course I sped,
When, far above, a falcon soared and spun,
In widening gyres, a dancer in the sun,
The sky its stage, the world beneath it fled,
Each sweep, each turn, with majesty it led,
The climbing spiral, silent, graceful run,
Riding the breeze till earth and sky were one,
And all my thoughts were to its freedom wed.

Not mine, the wings that cleave the golden air,
Yet in my breast, a strange desire grew-
To feel the lift, the warm caress, the rare
Delight of flight that to the heavens drew.
Not to escape, but for the joy to share
A moment’s lightness in the sunlit blue.

Perhaps the joys of my first roller coaster rides and waterskiing around the lake come the closest to the feeling of flight that I craved that day.