Pilots in the Currents
Capricious pilots, slaves of the master currents
in obedience to the shifting winds of indifference
pilots at the helm of the currents in the skies
seen only by the poets and the mystic wise
weavers of quixotic dreams and aeronautic lore
governed by a supreme power for always evermore
employed when the spirit moved across the waters
before fathers came to be fathers and begotten fathers
pilots, rulers at the half-way ladder to the heavens
up to where the soiled air and the hallowed spirit blends
pilots in the cockpits of the upward streaming tides
watching up and down and over with all three eyes
pilots trained by the authority of the wayward wind
disciples of the Wind Gods as a steadfast discipline
blowing the clouds and moving them at will
colliding with other clouds for a capricious thrill
watching them twist and turn and swirl about
and change colors while moving throughout
Oh pilots in the master currents;
blow the clouds away and make them come back.
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