Almost

Almost
 
A strange light of air
   to soar
        cascading sheets of wind
                        to curl cliff edges
                  and hurtle the tips
                                    of trees
 
                        roll into storm
                               the wet fur of rain
             an earthy cold taste
                        of mist.
 
Spiral
            from the circumference
                        of death
                  down, down, down
                                    the dark shadow
 
            to catch a breeze and rise
                        into a blue
                     a breathless blue
up, up, forever up
                        through white cotton wisps
                                    and higher still
 
            peering down on mountains
                        and trees
                                                and clouds
                                     floating the outer reaches
                        the straining fabric
                  the humming strands
 
holding me tight