Have you ever sat in crystal space, enjoying the sensations
of an eagle hovered high above the earth,
gazing down on man’s ridiculous and infantile creations
and judging them according to their worth?
Have you looked upon a basin small enough to wash your face in,
with a few toys-ships collected by the shore,
and then realised with wonder that if those toys go under
nine tenths of Britain’s navy is no more?
Have you seen a khaki maggot crawling down a thread of cotton –
the route march of a regiment or so?
Have you seen the narrow riband, unimportant, half-forgotten
that tells you that the Thames is far below?
Have you glanced with smiling pity at the world’s most famous city,
a large grey smudge that barely strikes the eye?
Would you like to see things truly and appreciate them duly?
Well when do it, damn you, do it: learn to fly!
Have you left the ground in murkiness, all clammy, grey, and soaking,
and struggled through the dripping, dirty white/
Have you seen the blank sides closing in and felt that you were choking,
and then leapt into a land of blazing light
where the burnished sun is shining on the clouds’ bright, silver lining,
a land where none but fairy feet have trod,
where the splendour nearly blinds you and the wonder of it binds you,
and you know you are in heaven, close to God?
Have you tumbled from the sky until your wires were shrilly screaming,
and watched the earth go spinning round about?
Have you felt the hard air beat your face until your eyes were streaming?
Have you turned the solar system inside out?
Have you seen the earth rush to meet you and the fields spread out to greet you,
and flung them back to have another try?
Would it fill you with elation to be boss of all creation?
Well then do it, damn you, do it; learn to fly!
Have you fought a dummy battle, diving, twisting, pirouetting,
at a lighting speed that takes away your breath?
Have you been so wildly thrilled that you have found yourself forgetting
that it’s practice, not a battle to the death?
Have you hurtled low through narrow, tree-girt spaces like an arrow –
seen things grow and disappear like pricked balloons?
Would you feel the breathless joys of it and hear the thrilling noise of it
the swish, the roar, the ever-changing tunes?
Have you chased a golden sunbeam down a gold and silver alley,
with pink and orange jewels on the floor?
Have you raced a baby rainbow round a blue and silver valley,
where purple calves throw back the engine’s roar?
Have you seen the lights that smoulder on a cloud’s resplendent shoulder
standing out before a saffron-coloured sky?
Would you be in splendid places and illimitable spaces?
Welll then do it, damn you, do it; learn to fly!