I fly

Blue carpet below,
Pushing away from the cliff.

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Arms out,
Clothes flapping uselessly.

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Falling,
Winds whisper in different tongues.

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Clouds pass by,
Shouting out warnings of storms brewing.

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The sea calls out,
Telling of the warmth and beauty within.

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Too far now,
Too late to stop.

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Hitting the sea,
And suddenly all the voices stop.

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I'm flying above the clouds,
Whispering in a language they'll never understand.

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The moon shines,
Creating a silver target below.

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They fall from the cliff edge,
Arms out.

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