From 10,000 feet

And ascending

A rock quarry

Reminds me of my middle

A hole meticulously scooped out

In search of precious pebblesQuarryLimestone

An inverted Mayan temple

At its pinnacle

A tiny mirrored pool

Full of earthy minerals

Reflecting light and sky

In the midst of dirt and rock

And manmade machines

That carry once buried bits away

But all that welled up water

Must be worked around

Cannot be ignored

Smooth and glassy

Occasionally rippled by wind and weather

Blue and beautiful

Born of steadfast immovability

~ by April on February 26, 2013.

4 Responses to “Flight”

  1. This is beautifully done.

    • The rock quarry was quite beautiful from 10,000 feet. And, it proved a decent distraction from my fear of certain death. :-). Thanks for reading. BTW, your “ghost” writing was beautiful…sometimes I feel quite ghost-like.

      • You describe it so that I might have been there. Perfect.
        Although certain death was clearly only a perception. What were the circumstances that made you so convinced of your demise?

        And thank you. I am glad you liked Ghost. And I am sure you are delightful flesh and blood rather than a pale apparition

  2. I am nearly convinced, each time I fly, that my demise is imminent. It’s a “little” anxiety I have. But I fly anyway. I figure the first time I give in to it, I am truly done for, in the “not living my life” sense. So I board the plane each time acutely aware of the fragility of life and how much I love it…even the messes.

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