Silken folds balloon in the wind,

falling from such great heights,


Descent slowed in billowing gale.

My defence,

spread around me,

above me.


What wonder to be saved,

saved from pain and misery.

What joy to land safely,

if not slightly off my course.


There is no need of a parachute,

when firmly on the ground.

Its weight, now cumbersome,

is still upon me.

Saving silks smother my every breath.


How I long for cords cut,

for sweet release.

So I may walk upright,

unburdened once again.


©Adam Lucy 03/08/2017