Above the clouds at sunset in a jet,
Solid-seeming cloudbank supplants the land.
Beneath lie clustered waves like froth,and yet,
Resemble wildly swirled snow or pleated fan.
The fiery pageant sweeps across the sky,
Just as though land, solid, lay below,
And the hills of clouds the glory underlie,
And slowly blend with stars and moon aglow.
And, suddenly, clouds part, a mountain valley
Shows twinkling lights, expands--a little town,
Appears like fantasy below, a subtle sally,
Visual fanfare, sweep, red-purple, trim dark ground.
Are they singing in the little town and dancing?
Are football fields alive with rousing cheer?
As we look down, believe for them a blessing,
Hovering as evening stars appear.
The engine's muffled roar, now an announcement,
The flight attendant offers snacks and drinks.
A little box of food, if splurge you want,
Or, you tip back your seat for forty winks..
Now, rubbing sleepy haze from wakened eyes,
Anticipation comes of someone dear,
Awaiting your return on" friendly skies,"
Or your assertive, "grab my car; and out of here."
Each step, the planning, packing, make connections,
Culminates in purpose for the flight,
Accomplished, friendships renewed, kind recollections,
The "friendly skies" bring some things good to light
The Creator of all the beauty that was seen,
The hearts warmed by the purpose of the flight.
In gratitude for safety, home again:
Thank God, how home and loved ones make things right.
©02/15/2012 Carol Morfitt Welch