Friday, September 30, 2016

Cross the Ocean

I’ve crossed the ocean at night,
Believing the roaring waters move below, unseen.
Then that majestic moon illuminates the harbor, brighter than stadium lights
Confirm the black waters, flashing tide.
The plane descends, rests with a thud against the runway.

I’ve crossed the ocean at dawn,
I thought the sky was blue - but no;
It’s gold and magenta, purple and ruby.
My re-heated, rubber eggs suddenly exquisite from this view
Airbus dips, tilts
Reveals a slanted world of hills, mountains, green, green fields,
All waking to the day.

I’ve crossed the ocean at day,
Bid farewell to the clean rows of houses
Tiny traffic, so like toys, puttering below.
Quickly came evening,
as if it grabbed on at take-off,
Pursued us at the heels.
The sky gave a small ceremony, send-off
Kissing the clouds in mauves and flame
Before surrendering to dark.

The wheels turn-down, mechanicals hum
We tip forward,
all of us; mutual anticipation, and descent.
Fresh, but humid air when the hatch opens, stairs let down.

After the papers, stamps, finding my patched bag
We all do the same - look for a familiar face
In the sea of people, each one on their toes, craning back their neck.
But I,
I will meet his arms,
fold into his warmth

Settle in that embrace

And I will cross the ocean no more.