The Plane Truth

My fingers are hungry for
ebony and ivory

keys to tickle up in space.
Or give me six strings and

a capo, my voice is ravenous
to dispel this damper.

Unprompted lyrics linger
on my tongue, scents beckoning.

I make no sound but my cells
are twangling music, waking

play me!
Welcome home.
We’re back

in time, when I could hear
the planet’s rejoicing as it moved

through my ears and danced
along my fingers.  A rich cascade

open and accepting, the gates
have finally reopened after so many

years lost in a fog.  Invisible
and half-forgotten, the misty trail

purposefully obscure.  And the why
doesn’t matter, not now, zinging

as the child next to me cries
air pressure pain, unwelcome surprise

in what was sold as a treat.
Such a long, long time to be

sitting here in this crowd
of muted passengers, the windows

offering the solace of cloud song.
They are gathered in the sky like

awesome angels, fat, cherubic chuckling
as our passage pierces.

We all tuck into our places,
headphones firmly fastened,

shielded from the very music
that can save us if

someone could hear our inner
cry. Throw me a rope.

Drop me a line, free
verse in this syncopated time.

Inspired by: Line, Dispel, Rope, and Awesome.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

2 thoughts on “The Plane Truth”

  1. Victoria, although I know it is not intended, this poem can’t help but remind me of the time I burst both eardrums on a plane flight due to uneven cabin pressure! Read it again and you can perhaps see what I see…An intriguing poem.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I love this! I did write this poem in complete empathy for the poor child next to me. His parents seemed oblivious, more concerned with what the other passengers were thinking than of his obvious agony. And yes, a burst eardrum would definitely mute the other passengers. Thanks for this comment, it opens so much for me!

      Like

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