Into the storm
The little aeroplane flies
Tipping it’s wings
To the rhythm
Of the skies

It’s propeller corkscrews through
My stormy view
A bubble in a bucket
Bouncing on pillows
The dream of a minnow

But I’m not the pilot
And I’m not a passenger
I’m a casual god
Observing my creation

Finally lying down
Being careful
Not to twist
It’s wings
Out of shape
Or squash
The canopy
Down on his bean

God’s eyes close
And I wander in