Spritual Writings

Backseat of a Boeing

Whisper-like, warm breezes of words swirl through my shady rest stirring feelings seemingly from another day, but really right now. My thoughts plummet like silver cylinders – dreamy planeloads of lives – passengers, stories I once carried, now shocked from their intended destination. No longer locked into the need to understand my narrative dissolves. There is only here: The backseat of a Boeing hurtling through empty space.