Departures

I’m drawn to airport departure halls, to the optimism of leaving. The suspension of here. The promise of there. I like the in-between feeling of transit, the lightness that comes from exchanging one clock for another. And how someplace else makes you a child, everything new again. And the chance to leave baggage at home, to quarantine turbulent emotions. And the triage of broken dreams or numbed lives into myriad flight paths, New Life-bound, relocating dislocated yearnings, destination reinventing destiny. And flight: the release, however brief, from reality’s gravity, the world simplified at 30,000 ft. to a spread of light-bathed cotton-candy clouds. In motion, there is possibility. In departure, future. In passage, faith. In altitude, a soaring-free. In sky voyages, horizon-crossings. In endings, beginnings. In boarding, a looking-forward to _______. I like hope taking off.