Imagine rocks dreaming of wings,
groundedness taking flight,
leaving earth and its gravity below,
no longer material but ethereal.
Having never known dizzy or giddy before,
they float on thermals,
naming all they see below,
like Adam in Eden.
Horizons and dimensions broadening,
as eons transform into infinites,
flying home, never to return;
their past becoming so far away.

Imagine ravens seeking beauty,
yearning to be Renoirs and Rodins.
They wing-brush birch pastels
and claw-sculpt granite Davids.
Their nests now woven tapestries,
forgoing murderous conspiracies
for their art as truth.
They create both as penance for past sins
and as symbols of redemption,
transcending ancient stigmas.
No longer harbingers of death
but artists of light.

Stan Winarski of Germantown retired in 2022, trading forecast spreadsheets for the freedom of more writing time. Poems long sequestered now seek release from their desk drawer mirroring his emergence from the corporate labyrinth. When not reading or writing, Stan and wife Mary Kay enjoy their time camping and traveling.