Winging It to Houston

A wing under way is the wending of doom,
finely-feathered in its flight
above a greening thoughtless earth for room;

And the slick transparency I see
that keeps it up
seems nothing but liquidity to me.

But fie on physics for my truth,
the wending is the proof
that birds and planes, and souls alike,
though said to rise and fall by law,
are kept aloft by thought alone, 
of all cool things,
for law is merely thought with wings.