Last jump of the Day

Crimson clouds spread across the sky,

towards dropzone colourful canopies fly

and when it is the last jump of the day,

the wind begins to blow off its way.

 

Sometimes it is light and variable

and not a steady breeze so stable.

Like the future that we all seek,

which is so unique and untenable.

 

With the wind filled in its cells

and a fluttering sound that swells

the canopy glides wavering

towards its destination quivering.

 

It gives me a reflection on life

guided by the choices as it glides,

on the winds of circumstances,

braving the random chances.

 

I trust my instincts close to the earth

and after inhaling a deep breath,

stop all efforts and let the body react,

there's no point in usng strength.

 

Then comes the touchdown

most likely the way we expect,

The way we weave our future

by the vision that we reflect.