An aviator’s calling (poem)

This poem complements the photo album Soaring the skies of North America.

I roar in yearning, as I speed ahead
My silver feet skimming the ocean
The hands of God flex up my wings
And thence I drift, towards the heavenly sky

Once again, I am free. I am home
Free from the toiling and the pettiness of life
All left behind; reduced to coloured bricks
And ants that creep along strips of grey

For in this new world, there are but angels
Whose wings dance with the gentle breeze
My eyes bear witness to nature’s carvings;
Mountains and valleys that sway with ease

An immense beauty beholds, greeted by euphoria
Ornamented by structures of man and state
Graced by a thousand rays of luminosity
That disperse from the cotton clouds above

With the retiring sun, fades in an orange haze
And comes a distant warmth, that hugs the clouds
With each phase of darkness, twinkles a star above
And emerges a might that no mind can fathom

Alas it is time, to surrender my wings
And cascade through the mist below
Back to man’s land, where burdens prevail
To kiss the ocean, till I fly once more.

© 2019 Mo Shahenshah Khan. All rights reserved.