Les Mouches: Post-thoughts

Freedom’s eyes,
how do I describe
thee? Composed of
blue stars, steaming with
a shiny plume of pride
that heartens young
kites to surge up high,
roaming within and beyond
the mysterious vacuum:
vast, deep, intangible,
unbound; yet sharp
like a rim of sapphire
silvering a new existence,
in a moonless night:
it extends itself like
rain to sea, sea to land
land to wind–only to
become a figure too
amorphous in shape,
its density, its meaning:
too heavy, too light.