This One is for Me
It takes a while to notice you are in a box when you have been inside said box for a very long time. It is said the powers of the box go beyond even the power of god himself. This might be the beguiling beauty of the darkness created by the boundary; or perhaps the tantalizing silence produced by its deliberately impenetrable walls.
The plane shuddered, it quaked. We wait for the voice upon whom our lives have been staked. Into the air, they take care; before and after, only air.
Rain…gray, blue, green, puffed, still, lingering…rain. Rising from the ground into sky; we approach the borderline. It seems as if you are diving into a sea which hangs in air. We are increasing in speed, increasing in height, increasing in anticipation, increasingly closer to the sea in the air. Gray sky fades to blue sea, engulfed in a blanket of puffy, aqua mist. Moments pass by seconds in stillness. We watch the mist. All that is heard rushes through our drums, passes, then melds into torrents of thunder and wind. The mist lingers. Darker and darker the mist grows. As it would seem it has become an impenetrable mask of blue sea, suddenly light begins to tear the blanket apart. Now the ocean is falling away in great mountains of gray, white vapor.
Blindness…..
Cannot see…..
Endless blue, white, yellow, beauty…