This poem actually has no title...

[Firiel]

I wrote this poem instead of listening in my American Lit class one day.

 

****

 

Wind rushing past me.

I hear nothing but its fury

as I plummet downwards.

 

I feel

The white sun warming my back

My hair blowing in the wind

My stomach doing acrobatics

No fear, no joy, only knowledge.

 

I see

The white clouds, still obscuring the earth

Clear blue sky, pure beauty

A flock of birds

The heavens

 

I pass through the mist,

The world opens up before me.

Lakes, fields, cities

Becoming larger, clearer.

I see all.

 

The ground approaches quickly.

Time

For one last thought.

 

…

 

*****

 

Any thoughts on it would be great. Like, how well (or poorly) does it flow? And does it even make any sense? What emotions does it evoke upon first reading it? Just that kind of thing.