FLYING ALONE

Sitting in the plane high above the western desert
I can think only of you.
Passing over deserts and mountains
indescribable in their beauty
I can see only your face,
your smile.
The music in my ears fades to the background
as I hear only your voice
talking to me.

I see other passengers on the plane,
but it is as if they
are cartoon characters,
not real.
Only you are real to me
at this moment.

I am traveling again,
and, again, alone
except for my thoughts of you.
No longer am I interested in trying to guess
where my fellow travelers are bound
or what they will see and do
when they reach their destinations.

It doesn't matter to me
that the airplane seats are too small
or that the air is stuffy
and never the right temperature,
or that the people bump my shoulder
as they work their way to the toilets,
or that the flight attendants smile
or don't smile.

I don't care where I'm bound.
The destination holds no interest
for me today.
My thoughts and my heart are with you.
I long to hold you,
to hear your tinkling laugh,
to share the triumphs and sorrows
that this day brings to you,
and to see again the tilt of your head
when you are perplexed.

I miss your consternation with me
when I don't seem to understand
or am on the verge of giving up.
I miss you urging me to carry on,
to keep on trying
rather than shutting down
and disappearing inside.
You have been there for me
even when I expected you to flee.
I miss you my friend
and my heart rejoices knowing
you are there.

Jim Morgan  September 8, 2012