A paper plane flew high

A paper plane flew high
above the valleys
and
above the rivers.
A young boy
had scribbled down
his dreams,
enveloped them
inside it
,and let
his postman,
the wind
carry it
to
the fairies
from his books
,who lived in a land
faraway.

The wind
lifted it gently
and it soared
like
a white hawk
high in the sky.
The children
followed its shadow
as they ran
through the fields
with their colorful
paper windmills
spinning to the
wind’s queer music.
The farmers
put down their spades
to glance at the sky
as they silently grinned
at the fragile paper
that aimed for the horizon.

The time passed by
The storm split the sky
The drought dried up the rivers
And yet
the paper plane
soared like a
white hawk
with its wings battered
but the dreams unscathed.
Until one calm breezy evening
when it finally decided
to rest on the foot
of a man
who just happened
to pass by
the terrain.

Curious,
the man
gently picked it up,
unfolded the envelope
and
under the red sky
painted with
those homebound seagulls,
his tired stern face soon
filled with giggles
as he
read through
and
recognized
his own scribbles
and all the wishes
he’d enveloped
inside
the battered paper plane.
The fragile old paper
that aimed for the horizon.