Red Roofs

All the red roofs beckon
Below me making false
Promises of security and comfort.
What do they know of comfort,
Bound to the earth by mortar and brick.
What do they know of security,
Unable to weave and bend with the wind.
I live among the clouds wrapped in the ultimate
Security blanket. Weightless, I ride the gentle
waves of the jet stream, frolic among the fiery
brilliance of the stars, cradled in the arms
of the universe.

*

Day 4 prompt via NaPoWriMo.net:

“Our prompt for the day (optional as always) takes its cue from our gently odd resources, and asks you to write a poem based on an image from a dream.”

I don’t know if Chagall painted this from a dream but I think it’s dreamy.

I’m hoping to catch up to the current day’s prompt soon!