I miss the roar and back-draft
which presses me against the seat back
the thrust of the surging engines
obliterates hearing …as the ears pop.
The forward movement upward
deep into the clouds to disappear, then
emerge above the white tundra
into bright sunshine on silver drifts
and blue sky above.
One of the things I always enjoyed
but will not likely do ever again
is to fly in an impartial airliner
on a mutual quest for far-away lands…
the enduring impression of impossible passage
from familiar terrain declining below
to emerge in due time across the world
as a new soul commencing existence…
or simply re-invention of Myself.
© Sometimes, 2016