Stare into the sun and you
Can't see the light
It's encompass north
As you measure the wind
From which preposition
A vivid consciousness arises
After going beyond
Where can one return
That's the trick of flight
To know the Icarian limit
And soar to only there
And yet to pull back
When excitation rules
There are more than twelve
Inches between the running
Feats of nature-nurture:
Awareness can only brake so hard
Rote habit closely done
Will feel and sense and taste
The mire open yellow sun
Without the way of haste
Roman Ryan 