Flying
Flying above a white wonderland with a crook in my neck from dreaming too far to the left, I’m trying to discern between the snow-peaked mountainous terrain and the clouds. This fairy tale is set above Lapland. The sound of the plane engine is like an ogre snoring.
Looking out at the red tipped wing and then down, I smile at the snake of waterways winding their designs, not linear like the straight square roads that men make. Do we really need a sign on the wing saying NO STEP. Does anyone really walk on a plane wing?
The sky is painted colors of a child’s nursery, blue and pink. The plane seems to be hanging stationary in mid air like a mobile over a baby’s crib. Where is the string? The ceiling?
It occurs to me that I’m wearing the black band watch (a birthday present) I lost as a girl swimming at the yacht club. The clock face was big then because I was learning to tell time. Now I’m older and just trying to see the numbers, trying to understand how it is we are floating as if in a dream above the mundane routines of life, as if we were gods. Does a girl below look up and see us?
The cabin is set on fire with setting sunlight before an eerie haze of dusk descends and city lights make trails of gold. Igloos warmed with camp fires. Little children being tucked in. Stories are being read.
Everyone is quiet as the giant silver plane tips and tilts. And we don’t fall out.
~ Scribbled in no particular order on the back cover of a book, Way of the Mystic.
March 6th, 2009 11:06 am
as we land and feel
our feet under us again
we realize vertical reality
is neither more no less
real than the virtual
realms of our virtuous
mind state
whether we look up
or down
or in or out
its all
one
r
e
a
l
i
March 6th, 2009 12:02 pm
the plane tilts and we don’t fall out. marvelous miracles of our age.
March 6th, 2009 12:10 pm
this is what I was reminded of, the comedian on Conan about planes…http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoGYx35ypus
March 6th, 2009 2:14 pm
I must print this and take it when I am getting that nervous claustrophobic feeling during the plane flight.
March 6th, 2009 4:37 pm
It’s necessary to walk on plane wings for repairs and such.
It’s good that nobody felt out.
Here via NetChick.
March 6th, 2009 5:08 pm
I love the sense of togetherness you create.
March 6th, 2009 7:44 pm
On your way to Boston, I assume, my dear….Hope you had a safe flight and that your time with your Mom will be warm and wonderful!
March 7th, 2009 8:19 am
you were physically, mentally and emotionally flying. 🙂 you’re indeed a writer. 🙂
March 7th, 2009 4:57 pm
I think Joey’s poem is great and an answer to your blog entry.
What a couple you are. xo
March 8th, 2009 4:38 pm
I enjoyed reading this. I hope your trip goes well.
March 8th, 2009 6:13 pm
hello,
that picture simply ‘does it’ for me.
being grounded, I recall with joy and some sadness my few flights over the past 5 years, and the longing is still there. I am caring for mom, today, and for a good while into the future it seems, hopefully we will keep getting along and avoid getting on each others nerves. Life is good, even at the end.
March 8th, 2009 8:10 pm
I so love your way with words. 🙂