Thursday, November 24, 2011

Humbling Journeys

Flying over great bodies of water
Seen from the air, they appear
Like art canvas in varying shades:
Brush-stroked or pallet-knifed
Cobalt, Prussian blue, slate,
Pale viridian - to name a few
I feel so insignificant
At times like these – hours
Of passing nothing but water

The only things seeming as endless—
At least thus far in my travels—
Viewed from the air,
Are mountain ranges
Row on row of snow- covered
Peaks, that from 30,000 plus feet
Appear somewhat the same height
It is illusory but equally humbling

Travelling by train or car
I get the same sensation
Going across the prairies
In North America or up around
The great lakes in Canada
While that section of road and rail
Doesn’t really go on endlessly,
But with the twists and turns
Through the Canadian Shield
Passing through steep canyon
Walled tunnels and past
Thousands of un-named
Lakes and islands, some
That still show on no maps,
It seems at times unending
And has the propensity
To make me feel diminished

I find myself, especially
When flying, thinking often
Of brave Amelia Earhart
Flying off into the great
Unknown – radioing
To land that she and her
Co-pilot were lost but
Not that worried –
And then, they were
Never seen
nor heard from, again

No comments:

Post a Comment