The Dream of Man: to Fly.

from this prompt at Writers Island

If we had wings, and we
could wing the objects and
the creatures of our choice,
which would we choose?
The fiddler's stick,
for instance,
what mind-enhancing trick,
what music, would it play
when freed from our control?
And what would critics say...
"the tempo is too slow"?

And think of airborne books,
how they might seek,
in a pro-active way,
their readership,
how this might give
to poetry
a timely fillip...
not just the poets
but the readers too
might find a poem finding them.

A bird-like camera,
a predator, no less,
that hovered in the sky
and took what met its eye
might change the way we see.

Installation artists
might be well advised
to take a break,
go sun themselves, relax,
when common articles
from pots and pans to railway engines
could meet up, and arrange themselves
in dispositions we might find
revealing to the mind.

And in my very wildest dreams
I see the mountains winged;
not going far,
a short hop here, a movement there:
"Land Art is us!" I hear them cry.
How could we follow that?