- Post By: Jason Santo
- Date:
- Category: Uncategorized
- Tags: above, airplane, flight, high, land, nowindowseat, poem, poetry, view, writer, writing
Countless dramas play beneath our sky scars, unseen worlds of disorder and routine, tugging souls into orbit and loosing them in a terrestrial dance echoing the great play of the cosmos. Uncaring, unaware, perhaps unwilling, ghost thoughts linger in the ether as our bodies hurtle. They might float Heavenward, hungry for starshine or a fiery death in the sun, but likely they fall as psychic rain. The busy below remain unknown, but our shadow brings pause to their tantrums, their serenity, their indulgence and sorrow. And then the unbidden intrusion of our discontent, our joy, our expectation and anxiety, clings like morning dew to their glass blade thoughts bent in new, unpredictable ways. And it seeps, absorbed, feeding seeds of fresh desire. And so grows an impulse posing as instinct. They never saw it coming, our awareness absent too, the chance drift of gravity gathering tides to the landlocked. #airplane #flight #land #above #high #view #nowindowseat #poem #poetry #writer #writing (at Below)