Freedom

[IceM]

A wooden cliff,
hovering in mid-air,
showing lanscapes an eternity
beneath you.

Only the devout take
the leap of Faith, but
even Faith will not save you.

Falling from the precipice of
Reason in the void, your
body contorts, terminal velocity
spiraling your body downward.
The Void is sensational.
A bald eagle cries overhead.

A voluminaous, feathery mass falls
alongside you, speeding downwards,
creating a mangificent gust that
temporarily suspends your
descent, lengthening your
excursions into the Void.
Above you, your brethren have
leaped, sin driving them downwards,
faith keeping them airborne,
a winner yet to be decided.

Two mammoths whose shadows
claok your fall smile with delight.
A voice, inquiring, asks the other:
"Mommy, what do you think happens
to the lint you clean from our fan blades?"

[Jerrybaldy]

I am gloriously lost from the wooden cliff onwards. But there is no harm in that. I sensed religion (call me a genius) but I loved the obscurity.

[IceM]

It was more meant to capture my childhood idea of predicting what happened to lint and how it must have been to fall, but religion does factor in, yes.

[deryk]

This was surprisingly very Blakean. I was pleased. I didn't feel it was religious as all, but perhaps rather Daoistic in its choice of subjects and motion.