Ground | The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere

From the ground the sky looks limitless;
from the sky, through the clouds, to the fields,
to the roads, to the people and the communities that I see-
everything and everyone looks like one, feels like one,
like the most resplendent and serene beauty.

Taking off into the vast blue and white
feels like ascending into another dimension of dark blue
between darkness and light-
the feeling in your stomach feels amazing, and unlike anything else-
your mind feels open with awe, like you have never felt.

Flying above the world below feels so natural,
as if we were all meant to always be among the clouds-
up here you feel so free of troubles, worries,
the future, the present, the past;
being up here never fails to astound.

Flying above the bright blue sea-
the wonder of what I am doing, what we are all doing,
every minute of every day overcomes me-
I feel more than I am, I feel more than I was,
I feel as I imagine an astronaut does
orbiting through space above the Earth-
like a baby in a mothers womb before birth.

Returning to land,
setting foot on the soft warm sand,
I feel like I have returned from a magical dream,
from somewhere, and to somewhere, I have never been-
changed, but still the same:
one of the magical gifts that you receive from flying on a plane.

You feel like you are a child all over again:
experiencing the thrill of take-off, flight, freedom-
like seeing a painting expand beyond the borders of a frame.

When we fly, by any means, we become like a bird in our mind,
in which all the destinations that we travel to
are like the branches of a tree,
and the more places that we go,
the more that we want to fly to truly be.