It’s been awhile since I’ve posted, but I was inspired on a flight today and cranked this one out:
A Poem for Terrence, My Flight Attendant
Could my ancestors imagine
That I’d see their land and trees
From the vantage point of eagles
Far above the summer’s breeze
Did the humble, earthen spirits
Know their metals and their ore
Could be fractured, manufactured
Into silver beasts that soar
Could the rivers have predicted
In their winding, roaming course
I’d see, at once, their many bends
From salty mouth to source
Were the fields and forests savvy
To their cordoned, patchwork fate,
That I’d gaze on them from heaven
Down through white and wispy gates
Have the clouds, themselves, envisioned
That we’d rise above their ranks
That we’d cast our tiny shadows
On their blue and ivory banks?
And do we, ourselves, remember
That the wide and looming earth
Hosts the soil we will return to
And the fires of our rebirth?
rhythm's nest 