[Ink]

Of Birds and Flight

A disheveled man, Rick's beard was more of a bib
NASA rocket scientist, days often spent with kids
Our teacher had us in a circle, starry eyes gazing in
As Rick took minds to heights that life seldom inhabited
Today he brought an icebox, confessing a slow fog
Expectations, excited talk, breaths held as he walked
Then stopped - plopped down on a fold up chair
That complained of his weight, they fell on deaf ears
At this point, he'd say a joke about a birds nest
Our jaws hanging open, begging for insects
Our first morsel, a balloon of a pale blue hue
It writhes in his shaking hands, we "ooh" on cue

"Okay, kids, I'm going to blow this up, so just give me a second"
Siphoned surrounding air into plastic, rosy cheeks from exertion

He tied it's umbilical chord, held it out for all to witness
And opened the icebox, the fog makes an appearance
"When this ballon goes in the box, count 'til lift off!"
We chant from ten to one in a crescendo like Jo Brahms
He pulls it out of the icebox, holds out a shriveled thing
Wonder and amazement - the world starts trembling...?

"Richard, wake up! The boss is headed our way man"
"Stop shaking me..."
The dregs of sleep get erased by the back of my hand
Welcome to Jet Propulsion Labs, we build spacecrafts
It's diagrams, extensive math, and naps that never last
I punch away at keys, the boss gets my pearly whites
Certainly a far cry from my youth's envisioned life
But it's the path I chose after Rick's illusions broke
Exposed... nothing more than just mirrors and smoke
Dry ice, the chemistry, not much more than childs play
Basic science, less to do with tapping hats and canes
Solid state of CO2, sublimates in most rooms
And contracts oxygen 'til it's misread as C2
Thus the shrinking of the balloon, was more a science show
The arcane is not so, it's academic bravado
Behind every nest...
... An unimpressed man in white robes