A Free Verse poem that describes a jet fight aircraft airborne and waiting to stroke a foe
|Falcon Is Viper
I fly into the mountainous face of an Elder Man
who, seated, creates
a World of Clouds,
a World of Light
that accompanies me
through every flight
as this Viper tears through
the upper deck of a stadium so vast,
my exhilaration kept in check
for I know that I'm not alone
- there is another -
besides my Elder,
who lurks in these clouds seemingly forever,
I search, I search for him
through lowest...highest realm.
From 12 o'clock...to three, six and nine - can overwhelm
my opponents cannot see me
for I am invisible
my true name is FALCON,
a birthright given long, long ago
I've flown over the eyes of hurricanes,
lightning flashes blow-by-blow
The immense serenity of the Eye's Wall
gives serenity for the seas immediately below
I must leave now,
this ghostly arena with relative ease ...
For that opponent never suspected
my other-worldly lair
Discovered soon enough of his doom
as I quickly prepared
To master arm two Sparrows sent shrieking
through the vast, malignant mists
As I count backwards ... "Ten.....Nine....Eight....Seven..."
- the numerical lists -
this Viper strikes
and the dot on the radar
disappears with a finale,
Saluting a fighting Warrior
who soon is added to my Final Tally
And now homeward bound,
protecting our homeland boundaries
- this Viper does what Falcons do best...
swoop down below the Sun's bursting foundry,
to join together with your Squadron mates,
with two found missing saddens us greatly
for Brothers In Arms often pass the Test,
to resist Tyranny whether peasant,
or any of the rest...
Carry on! Raptors on high!
You are aimed so highly above -
laying down your lives -
there is no form of greater Love,
We The People
stand shoulder-to-shoulder in awe of you...
to the highest airborne corridors
- to the lowest upon the Plains -
to the urban mountains made
of steel, concrete with architect's plans.
We The People stand shoulder-to-shoulder in awe of you....