Balsa Wood
If I could remake you
Out of balsa wood
Would I?
You’d be lighter
Yet strong,
Easily take flight.
The wind would push
Against your wings
And caress your face.
Ascension, descension,
Thrown by the carelessness
Of the air and the sky.
Letting every splinter
Alter your course,
Dancing on the map.
Would you even return,
Fight the current
To come back to me.
I see you in the flesh
And swear
You’re something better
Could I set you free?
Free of the land
And free of me.
Knots and imperfections
Same as now,
But you would fly.
You belong
High above me,
A distant speck.
I can’t make this choice
I’m selfish in my love,
What say You?
Wind filled wingspan?
Or me, simply me,
Pink tongue, white teeth.
I’ll be yours
To hold and kiss,
To wriggle against.
I know it’s a poor choice.
I’ve always ruffled
One too many feathers.
So which is it?
The clouds,
Cotton and dewy.
Or me, simply me
I’ll hold you close
And love you tenderly.
If you wish
I’ll remake you
Out of balsa wood
But know that if
The gale proves too much,
You may return to me
I’d make you safe again
Peeling back every ring
Of that lovely balsa wood.
– Vagabond Prophet