Tuesday, June 14, 2005
"Bye America"
"Bye America" the young child said.
This has been a day when forests poured themselves into oceans and the sky reached down with a sleepy kiss. I see only air from the center seat of the plane, tendrils of clouds, the flesh of land unseen below us. A western sun shines through the window on my dress, reminding me of all life as it warms and glows through my tired body.
What will this trip bring? I have had moments of confusion and exasperation, but every step has also brought me into contact with the most supportive, helpful people.
A short poem:
"Night tried to intrude
on the right side of dawn
we make the journey
one hand open
the other still closed"
This has been a day when forests poured themselves into oceans and the sky reached down with a sleepy kiss. I see only air from the center seat of the plane, tendrils of clouds, the flesh of land unseen below us. A western sun shines through the window on my dress, reminding me of all life as it warms and glows through my tired body.
What will this trip bring? I have had moments of confusion and exasperation, but every step has also brought me into contact with the most supportive, helpful people.
A short poem:
"Night tried to intrude
on the right side of dawn
we make the journey
one hand open
the other still closed"
