Renamed Again

As we hydroplane across deserted skies we reach for anything close to a horizon,

A gull stretches out her tired wings,

Drinking water off a cloud She tells me who we are,

A leaf in the distant fog eliminates any question in our mind,

We are what we are not,

And we can not become what we have not been before,

Yet we are always what we can become,

Reaching for ourselves we fall down the rabbit hole,

Incomplete and whole,

Immediately we dismember our spirits and our souls and cling to the wing of the gull hoping she could fly us back to the deserted sky,

But she denies our request and fills up our cup while telling us stories of the other us,

Scared to the brink of reality we jump to the edge of our seat while the gull mocks us for even thinking there is an edge to our seat,

Unamused we laugh and cry and sing and shout and in that instant we are born,

And we are forgotten,

Lost to the winds that echo through the stars and later found by the foam of the ocean waves,

crashing down on the dunes of your minds melodious mountains only to trickle down to the rivers that feed the falls that we drink from every single day,

Subtly hoping one day we may find out who we were the day before.