Flying High - May 2017

Flying over Europe, a sudden shroud of calm and equilibrium spread across my entire skin- as if my being was a sponge. I adore flying. It resassitates my decaying veins.

I had an overwhelming urge to put this zen into words.

Flying high

As I look inside, knowing & seeing;

I ache & pine; a void in my being.

In this life, I stammer and mumble;

Trudging through, I falter and stumble.

Through strife or even a lack of fuss,
The sad veracity is so thus:

Inside my core - deficient of self worth;

As I walk & drudge, this baffling earth.

Yet amongst the clouds and sky so blue;

Nothing's wrong, there's nothing left to rue.

The glorious tall, sweet spot of flight,

A biting point, both flawless & right.

Only up high - at thousands of feet;

I finally feel: fully complete.