The Madness of the Levitant

I recall reading a Zen poem where the poet, residing in the hills, spoke of the madness that came with the hills:

With a bit of madness in me

which is poetry

I hover like a kestrel

among the wails of the wind.

And so, today, among the wails of the wind, and with a little bit of madness in me, I levitated, with the kestrel looking on.