Things That Will Soar

I should have been in Prague today
and yesterday
and the day before
but I'm not

instead
i'm hemmed in by bay windows
and constant rain
and the tick tick ticking of
clocks that are slow
or fast
or silently stopped all together.

Time's as confused as I am;
part wanting to gallop a pace
part wanting hang back and wait
with the characteristically contradictory desire
to stop, be still and
observe independently
as the world turns around me.

I've missed my flight
and gained precious days
here where it's buzzing
where we bounce off each other
like rubber
springing apart
gravity bringing us together
only to be propelled again
to opposite sides of the globe
when we'll connect again?
Neither knows,

but as sure as we are rushing through the air
we can thank the other
for propelling us up there
amongst planets and meteorites

(like those that lovers
have begged us to like.

I'm not impressed
it's a lump of rock, unearthly, sure
but inert, grounded
clumsily mounted)

I should have been in Prague
today, yesterday and the day before,

but rather than hold onto something that has fallen,
i want to touch the things
that will soar.