flying

Thu, 04/25/2013 - 12:23 -- ekelly

this is
the moment we are no longer stationary earthbound creatures
chills
down my back
and my arms
even though this is nowhere near my first time.
I hug myself, lean my head back, close my eyes
because as the engines start gaining power
as the roar grows louder in my head
even though the sun shines through
to my window seat
I know
there is nothing to see now
only to feel.
and never have I felt
so comfortable
at home
perfectly content
as I do now, wedged into this corner
with a hot coffee and
oh, now a stain on my white shirt
(but I am past the point of caring)
and a book I wish I could focus on
and a view of Creation
both God's and man's.
because first we fly toward the sun's nighttime retreat
where there is nothing but ocean and
tiny specks of white crossing the vastness and
a chunk of Earth appearing suddenly and
this is God's Creation.
and then we bank
and we are facing the mountains
dusted by God with powdered sugar
(or maybe snow)
but just below me is
my surprisingly small world
and I can make out tiny houses and even tinier cars
and the freeway
and the city
that I thought were so huge
and this is man's creation.
but this creation is ugly, a scar, a blemish
tiny compared to those mountains in the east and that ocean to the west
so I slip away
and now I am in a hostage situation in a South American country
my pulse racing
while another part of my brain wishes it could write like this
and I look up from my book
to dream
as I watch from inside
this miracle
that is a small pressurized metal container
that somehow stays here
thirty thousand feet up
in the sky
above the trees
above the mountains
(on whose peaks it seems God's hand must have slipped
as He dusted them with sugar/snow)
above the clouds
(the smoke from my grandfather's cigars, frozen in time)
and I think
that there is no place better
than this corner into which I am cramped
because here
is a miracle
and here
the world is
the possibilities are
I am
beautiful
magical
infinite.

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