Flying In Amber

Here I am, flying in amber.

Wishing that you were here.

But at least I have my wings outstretched,

an opportunist for motion.

Holding me down,

and holding me up,

my cage is a world of morning light.

Freed from choices, I am evidence

of whatever you like,

but mine is a journey of silence,

soaring, motionless

within forever's space.

-also for Clara.

This poem is still not quite right. But I like it well enough, I guess.

Anyway. MY ORIGINAL IDEA! I don't care if you think it's good or not, I just want to keep it. *grin*