Visions On a Plane
It’s a perfect day to ride a plane.
Looking outside from the lounge, the air
feels pristine scrubbed by rain the night before.
Now the plane seems to hold its breath,
heave a sigh, clutch its steering wheels -
all is ready to take off to the sky.
I close my eyes to whisper to my mind,
but before my sense of fear takes hold,
we are an arrow shooting into space.
The earth below is caught in blazing sunlight,
rising and fading into a bed of frothy clouds
while the sea beneath holds a saucer of sparkle.
All these visions meld a grand display,
a silent symphony against the sky.
How easy to nurture a sanctuary of peace.
With each dip and sway of the plane, I lose
myself to find a refuge from life’s stirrings
be it a momentary lull in pain.
I hear muffled voices of people around
disparate and inane they shatter my thoughts.
I am in a battlefield with bullets flying.
As the plane’s departure was long delayed
the pilot seems to be in a race to catch up,
flies like a biker on a mad motor ride,
It’s now a bumpy ride to gain distance,
the plane swoops down like an eagle, bent
to capture its prey - and eureka! We land
On time safely, if not shakily.
@jjote 072821
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