Notes from the Plane

It is so curious to perceive the world from the sky.
The plane (my mode of transportation) is so far, far up and the earth so deep, yawning below. Enigmatic, the world below me dwells, in a outlying memory. In a memory not remembered – a memory yet to be seen.
The ocean blue lays so pale and crisp beneath my planes shadow. The distance makes the glinting waves look so still and peaceful. The waves seem to rest. From my window I see a boat far far down, floating over those still waves. I wonder where it came from. I wonder its purpose – where is it heading? Drifting further, driving faster until its nothing more then a memory – a vision lost in the glinting sun, drifting off to the opposite horizon.
When I look from my window into the deep deep sea, I can’t help but wonder… “What are the stories beneath the arctic blue? What memories lay murmuring beneath that dark chasm? What stories are entombed in the sands of oceans foundation?”
The gentle symphony of memory sings beneath that chasms surface – its waves locking and sealing memories song. Memories yet to be remembered. Memories teasingly lie beneath the crisp arctic. The pattern of the waves is inconsistent and sometimes, memories song will quickly pass up through the surface of the water… only to drift alone, shunned by mans deafened ear.

(photo courtesy: elizabethsarah.com)

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2 Comments

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2 responses to “Notes from the Plane

  1. Deborah

    Happy B’day, my dear Mary! I love you too dearly for words. Have a wonderful day! 😀

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