When I was 7, I flew in a plane for the first time and I created a game for myself
Count the number of backyard pools you see you miss one, you lose
When i turned 21, I flew to Los Angeles which was a first for me on two accounts
My first time in LA
And my first time losing the swimming pool game
For the least captive audience ever
You try and tell me what to do in the case of a water landing but what you don't understand is
I put the frequent in flyer
Collecting rewards
Which really only amount to flying more
Gazing out my rounded rectangle
I never miss the take off
The slow zoom as things bigger than you fade smaller and smaller until they become so distant
That I can't even squish them between my fingers anymore
Imagine how a bird must feel the first time it swoops down to land on the ground and thinks
That house is much bigger than it looks
I like it better up there
Where you're the first to know the weather
Suspended between timezones and atmospheres I get acquainted with the clouds
Cheating death and gravity
For $329 plus tax
From up there, I see
Where roads begin and end and I want to cheer on the cars you're almost there
It's just around the corner
You just can't see it yet
From up there, I see
Small clusters of light
Reminding me of brain wave activity scans
And I think
A city is perhaps a synapse of God's brain
Lighting up where connections are being made with the Almighty
Which makes sense why most of the earth below is so pitch black
With the seat belt sign turned on
And the man in the aisle seat white knuckled on the arm rest
I remind him that no plane has ever crashed from turbulence
But if we had the choice, don't you think most passengers would give up before it passes
What if, on the ground, we had no choice but to strap in and wait it out?
How many still fathered children would there be?
How many unsigned divorce papers?
How many un-read suicide notes?
How many of us would stick around if we knew that what is turbulent is inevitably harmless?
And that, though annoying, the change fee was necessary because change never comes free
And I'll gladly pay the price
If it will get us where we're going faster
But we fail to recognize that if your name's on the suitcase
It's just gonna come around again and again until you grab it
The turnstile of life keeps kicking back what you refuse to pick up in other words
We all have to claim our baggage before we can move on
From up there, I can see all that
But from down here
I'm lucky if I even take the time to look up and wish I could fly