At most, Fear

When one notes

the Atmosphere,

I wonder

what do You
conjure, in imagery?

A mood, light,

aura, ambiance, affect,

air, Up, There,

Ascent?

Dare we 

try to touch the ceiling, 

thusly tempted terrestrials?

We determine to defy 

our own manmade heavy Laws.

We break barriers, sound out loud, 

maximums

as axioms. 

We try to fly, defy gravity,
soar for more

throw wishes at stars

and hold our breath.

At this inclination

drops dew hover insight,
and we called it Fog,

blurring dezephyr

into

at-mos(t)-phere.

Background muzak soothes

voluminous volatiles

(i.e. such as) we hear. 

Image of Earth atmosphere taken from the space shuttle Atlantis in May 2010. Photo Credit: By NASA, STS132 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Queen of Sheeba (legend)

Nee of the redwood(ed) hollow
birds of paradise weep,
by the little red nikita
swings on the leeway
across the lagoon,
so soon for a Februist
insisting
all water is life
look, brackish was where
the recombination of atomic diffraction
chromeatopea and spore
makes love in plumes
and lays (be)low, muffled (be)lies
that whole time
she never saw the aviators soar
up,
    up,
         up,
               and waste our days.


Painting By Arkhip Kuindzhi (1842-1910), Forest Swamp (http://kuinje.ru/peizag.php) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.