Traveler Poem by Butch Decatoria

I am an eagle with wingspans
Of impossible delights
Who argues with it it's flight

In a sky without the light
Incapable to be free

I am now a ghost
Here reading poetry
It's living years:
A breeze through eyes
Filled with tears

A gargoyle pacifying all fears
Past the night

This is a wish, a kiss, deep
A hopeful sigh
Hands bound, fingers clenched
For Love to deliver me
From here/now
To a place called perfection
Infinitely

I am fish/sparrow
Swimming in the in-between
Looking to always see...

No end to the ends

Sunrise and free.