Flight

Flight

As I go alone, gliding across concrete rivers, by chance I look up

The clouds are grey anvils spreading slowly to cover an opalescent sky, tinged with golden edges that nearly sing in the dusk

Here, I see, though dimly, the silver angles and white reflections of the plane, newly ascended into the heavens and filled with cargo yet bound for distant places.

I cannot explain how but my heart leaps and sobs all at once

Every plane leaving here could be carrying me to you, every mile it covers could be one more mile of my fingertips to your lips—closer, closer.

Every plane leaving could be a journey I take, a rocket unto enlightenment, a psychological autonomy if only for a day, a week…forever.

I covet every aircraft that leaves the enslavement of the earth

They all draw me back to you and the Maker, both wound up impossibly together; His plans for you,  your plans for the sky; my desire for both

With the same inevitability that slices through air, my tears like jet’s wings, carve a path across the expanse between

I cling to and mourn for equally the flight through the sky and your ever-retreating  hand