Lighthearted
I grasp the controls tighter
and let out a whoop as the plane's wheels leave the runway.
It's pure delight, that feeling,
the sensation of being finally freed.
The weight of worries left behind
the pains of life forgotten
my heart is released, borne up into the free air.
Ecstasy.
They've tied up the sleeping BA in the back
for fear he'll kill us when he wakes.
And he calls ME crazy; how could anyone be afraid to fly?
Hannibal chews his cigars, the cogs of his mind
already grinding over the mission ahead.
Faceman dozes in his seat; even when unconscious,
he manages to keep his hair unmussed and his suit immaculate.
I love my team; I'm not myself
without them beside me.
But this is the only time I don't understand them;
the one instance I can't guess their thoughts.
How can they be so calm, so indifferent,
when our bodies are suspended in misty clouds and sunshine,
with nothing but air between ourselves and the ground.
Exhilaration!
Fuselage, cockpit, wings
Prop, flaps, landing gear
Compass, altimeter, yoke
Yes, I know it all like I know how to breathe.
But the wonder, the excitement never goes away
as I sail into the open arms of the atmosphere.
On the ground, there's nothing but judgment
They write me off as unimportant
another sad story to be pitied and tucked out of the way.
But up here, in the blue,
my heart can rest, content in who I am.
Peace.