Floating over green fields and crowded buildings
I watch through the tiny airplane window
humans scurrying about, skirmishing 
in circles of serendipity.

Flying through puffed smoky cloudage
I ponder this strange buckshot existence.
Am I a mere blemish on this orbiting
sphere like my fellow beings I can barely see below?

We are all so small, and yet we act so large.
What's the cosmic plot here?  
Has anyone stumbled on the point of it all?
This whole universe?

Sipping lemon in tea, the vessel careens into stormy skies.
I imagine that the pilot knows our course.
Like the Navigator of the cosmos guiding my soul's evolution.
An uncanny line extending back to eternity.

What inspires my arid soul to drift through this struggle?
Why am I really here?  I know I could leave at any time.
But my spirit thirsts for experience.
It hungers to live, and long, and love.

The greasy engine roars as the plane falters abruptly.
People panic, fingers grasping chairs in desperation.
Death is calling us on a fascinating horizon
looming like a foreboding cavern entrance.

But I can only laugh at its icy threat
because I know it's inevitable.
We must all die in order to live.
So I will welcome creative passions 
until finally we meet and embrace each other again.

The plane ride softens as we sail into sunlit skies.
The foreign woman next to me is whispering prayers,
eyes closed with hands over her face to hold her terror.
I can't understand her language.

Some words we'll never know.
Some words, some lives, some memories we'll never know.
The mystery spirals through existence, unbound and magical
rippling in circular waves like a stone thrown into calm waters.