Skylark

I remember I used to be scared of the skylark
So majestic and so free
I wondered how something so miniscule
Could intimidate one like me

How high can a bird fly?
To the heavens I thought, or near it.
As its wings rise to the skies
I often wondered why I feared it.

And now I realize
Wherein lies the root of my fright
As I stare up into the heavens
Blinded by the light

You fear that which you envy.
Living in a glass house wrought with bricks
From within streams forth a flood of rapture
Cold as the river Styx

Sometimes I look to a silver sphere
Lit ablaze in an ashen sky
I sit as the stars shimmer
And I wish that I could fly.

You need not see a skylark
To know that it is near
For it only sings amid ascension
So it's sweet song is all you need to hear

As it glides through the sky
I cannot help but wonder
Does a skylark dream?
Does it wonder how or why.
Does a skylark feel joy?
And does it ever cry?

And when I hear the sweet symphony
Intoxicated by the harmonious madness of the skies
I look into the distance
And I wish, that I could fly.