Powerless

clouds pass easily
sure of their place in the world
why do we fret so?

not content to just
sit by and wait for the moon
and it's instructions

it is our longing
that divides each new daylight
and tortures our souls

oh, sweet upheaval
freedom lost to the swirling air
while mankind stutters

banks down in red flames
toast my flying toes, bullets
whir past my white wings

babies are dying
as the planet cracks, water
swelling up our shores

as idiots mess
with power and assumption
to mend our smallness

not of this present
I fly and dip and watch and
record my story

of mankind and earth
and the woe of her peoples
powerless to help

in the black trenches
of our madness and deceits
I sail so fiercely

used by some God
that I do not understand
to do this small task

can I accept this
measure of my life and times
today, the answer?