The World from a Plane

August 31, 2010
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Yes here I sit and peer out toward
The sky in which I am.
The clouds below me are so thick.
They are tufts, like they were
made only for the purpose of
pursuit of pleasure and softness
And light.

It's a sea above another sea,
The sea without weight
And through little dashes of gusty wind
I see the black below.

Little specks of yellow scatter
Across the black
Like the night sky had fallen to Earth
As I rise to the air above the ocean
Of the angels.

Oh I could look down and see my home.
My buddy is asleep;
So is everybody else.
Alone I write, alone in the sky
Where no man was meant to see,
To intrude

Yes, this must be heaven.
I have entered into heaven and
Stayed awake to glimpse at it.
Soon I will land to see the perils of our species,
The tides of our nature,
The scars of our lips.

A cycle would pass so the orb will return
To the same face as many years ago
And I will be reminded of life
And no one can erase
The paradise of death I have seen.

Fuji reaches beyond the clouds
Towering over the world, unseen by the sleepy eyes.
Yes, nature has reached heaven.
How can our Earth have reached
Such great heights?

No such thing can exist.
No such wonder should be possible.
No such pleasure can be experienced
By merely being awake
And witnessing this being;
And yet I am.

Yet I am in this manner.
We enter into an unknown world
To which I return as a stranger among friends.
Light shines brighter but its all the same matter.

Leaves fall.
Grass tangles.
Rain falls and rises again.
The memories I make now will fill
The emptiness of this heaven.
The blank white slate is to be colored
With all that is wanted.

California's traveler will soon
Be in France.
Turmoil will inevitably penetrate my shield.
Those terrors will never be as awful
As any lightning
But we'll all end up back in the sky
Where I'll meet all I have met.

The clouds will be colored
And lights will show the tides
Still turning day by day
Each day.

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