I look out, my elbow fishing
For a bump, a caress or even a skin teaser
On the window aisle
Where you have a front row view of heaven
You look out, to see, clouds, nimbus and cumulus,
A soaring bird perhaps, if you’re on the good side
Of the maiden of luck, and lightning strikes
That play hit and miss, and still you see the sun,
Like a brilliant eye, gazing at you in
The intensity of an eagle eying a prey,
Almost as if, you’re a witness,
To the most glorious stage on earth,
Where, the fine wing, with rows of lights
On the edges, takes you along, when you’re just a little blip,
In a cloudy wilderness, learning
That rainbows are not just harbingers,
They too are omens, of how to dream
Too far, too soon, when the skies open
And it rains cats and dogs,
And all you want is a little dream,
To find her way, like this plane
Will to her destination, when the skies
Are boundless, and it is easy to get lost.
While the only compass you have, is in your soul,
And you trust faith to be your pilot,
And you look towards at the open cockpit
Where God sits, smoking time.
