My name means earth but I live in the sky,
the clouds know me better than anyone.
I used to fly with stars and stripes on my wings,
but I only cared about one of those anyway.
When I'd ascend I'd be returning home,
and before descent I'd pack my bags
full of starlight and mist, sunsets and new snow,
until I got tired of packing.
Now I stay in the sky, there is so much to do
I never wish for the ground.
I collect carnival balloons, dandelions seeds, and lost kites
at night I watch prayers pass the rain.
The aurora borealis is my night light,
and the moon keeps watch as Orion sings me to sleep.
Everyday I wonder why
more people don't come live in where the view never ends
Where the air is fresh and nightmares can't reach,
and you almost forget imperfection.
Then again, if people hadn't lived on the earth,
I may not have had to move to the sky
If they discover my secret, and try it out for themselves,
I may have to leave here for good.
And if I leave I might as well die,
for my life is the sky.