Flavours

There’s a little boy with his head on his thighs,
Scratching for food in the buzzing of flies,
He finds some crumbs on the dusty earth
Screaming with hunger, he tastes their worth
To find flavours on his tongue,
From shackles of hunger now he’s sprung
Over mountains with crests of snow,
With joy he begins to grow
A birds wings that fly him up to starry skies
And moonlit nights that dazzle his eyes,
He sees the deep, blue sea with awe,
He tastes the air, no fear of fall.

His soul born upwards from that dusty earth,
Remembering the flavours of life since birth,
He finds his wings of white alive
And flies on upwards into heavenly skies.