A poem inspired by my recent (first) airplane trip:
Floating world
nested in patient blue sky
time doesn't touch me
as long as I dress up in
soft cloud shoes
and move in slow motion
in time with white velvet rhythms
of ethereal light.
All the while
my soul streams
alongside a Force, a Power, I strive
to understand,
but can't.
Glaring metal wings tossed me in this soup
away from all I know.
How can this world exist
up, up, high above my universe.
My all-important universe,
or is it?
And I am king of my destiny there,
or am I?
Up here, floating, I barely exist,
or rather, I never existed so much,
or this way.
When I'm here
I'm someone else.
I'm eternal.
I'm pure,
and I'm free.
I'm not king, but
I float.
Just like clouds.
Copyright 2008 JO Janoski
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Awh Jo, aren't you glad you went. Scary and all that the first airplane ride. I feel that way everytime I fly, scared to leave the ground, and totally amazed by being in the sky. You expressed all these feelings well in your poem! I check out the prompt! :)
ReplyDeletefrom the observation deck of a new world--good one
ReplyDeleteHeehee, Jo, next thing you know you';ll be going for your pilot's license!
ReplyDeleteReminds me when I flew the firs time.
ReplyDeleteIt is quite an interesting experience, no? I recall my first flight, all the way from the strip search (randomly selected on my first flight, oh joy) to being aloft in cloudy heavens. Quite a visceral thrill yet I wasn't nearly as nearvouse as I thought I would be. I did get nervouse when I thought I had missed my connecting flight, though.
ReplyDelete